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A  Girdle  Round  the  Earth 


^Monxc  ilcttcrs  from  jForcign  ILantis 


BY 


D.    N.    RICHARDSON 


CHICAGO 

A.    C.    McCLURG   AND    COMPANY 

i8S8 


Copyright 
By  a.  C.  McClurg  and  Co. 

A.D.     1887 


TO    HIS 


THE   AUTHOR   APFECTIONATELY   DEDICATES 
THIS    BOOK. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

FROM   THE   MISSISSIPPI  TO   THE   PACIFIC. 

Page 
The  Starting-Point.  —  A  Halt  at  Denver.  —  Through  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
—  Salt  Lake  City.  —  California i 


CHAPTER   II. 

ON    THE   PACIFIC    SEAS. 

Life  on  Shipboard.  —  \\Tio  are  we  all  ?  —  Side-lights  on  the  Missionary  Ques- 
tion. —  The  World  as  seen  from  a  Ship's  Deck.  —  Bright  Days  and  Moon- 
light Nights.  —  How  we  pass  the  Time.  —  Our  Crew  of  Chinese  Sailors. 
—  A  Lost  Sunday.  —  A  "  Ship  Sociable."  —  Death  on  the  Deep.  —  A 
Ship's  Library.  —  Tempestuous  Days.  —  A  Taste  of  a  Typhoon.  —  Safe 
in  Harbor 


CHAPTER   III. 

JAPAN. 

Yokohama.  —  Street  Scenes.  —  The  Jitirtkisha  Men.  — Japanese  Farming 
Regions.  Glimpses  of  Home-Life.  —  Ruined  Shrines  and  Temples.  — 
Images  of  Buddha 22 


CHAPTER   IV. 

JAPAN. 

Tokio,  the  Eastern  Capital.  —  The  American  Legation.  —  Japanese  City  Life. 
—  Curious  Street  Conveyances.  —  Hotels  and  Restaurants.  —  A  Jap- 
anese Printing-office.  —  Type-setting  under  Difficulties.  —  The  Educa- 
tional Quarter.  —  The  University  of  Japan.  —  The  University  Library.  — 
Medical  Department  and  Hospital.  —  The  Missionary  Quarters      ...       32 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

JAPAN. 

Page 

Among  the  Mountain  Temples.  —  The  Holy  City  of  Nikko.  — A  Ride  along 
the  Queen's  Highway.  —  Tree-Planting  in  Japan.  —  Processions  and  Fes- 
tivals. —  Gorgeous  Temples  and  Mighty  Images 41 

CHAPTER  VI. 

JAPAN. 

kJinriklsJia  Ride  to  Kofu.  —  A  Bit  of  Earthquake  Experience.  —  The 
Holy  Mountain  of  Fuji.  —  Among  the  Silk- Workers.  —  A  Boat-Ride 
down  the  Rapids.  —  A  Japanese  Pleasure  Resort.  —  No  Cattle  on  a 
Thousand  Hills.  —  A  Race  of  Vegetarians 52 

CHAPTER  VH. 

JAPAN. 

Kioto,  the  Western  Capital.  —  Visit  to  an  Old  Japanese  Castle.  —  Theatres 
and  Wrestling-Matches.  —  A  Visit  to  the  Green-Room.  —  More  Colossal 
Idols.  —  Temples  and  Museums.  —  The  Contribution-Box.  —  Cremation 
in  Japan.  —  A  Religious  Dance.  —  Champion  Roosters  and  Native 
Swine.  —  Freaks  of  Female  Beauty.  —  Tea-Making  and  Tea-Drinking.  — 
Last  Days  in  Japan.  —  Seven  Hours  at  Nagasaki.  —  An  Old-Time  Yan- 
kee Merchant.  —  General  Grant's  Camphor-Trees.  —  Good-by  to  Japan.  — 
Again  at  Sea 62 

CHAPTER  Vni. 

CHINA. 

Shanghai,  the  Emporium  of  the  East.  —  The  Chinese  Enigma.  —  Off  for 
Pekin.  —  The  Yankee  Skipper  Abroad.  —  Home  Newspapers  and  Baked 
Beans. — Sunday  at  Sea.  —  Methods  of  Maritime  Commerce.  —  Up  the 
Pei  Ho  River. — By  Mule-Cart  to  Pekin.  —  A  Memorable  Journey. — 
The  Great  Central  City  of  the  Middle  Kingdom S2 

CHAPTER   IX. 

CHINA. 

Life  in  Pekin.  —  The  Missionary  Question  again.  —  Two  Sides  of  the  Case.  — 
Catholics  at  the  Front.  —  Curiosities  of  Chinese  Journalism.  —  The 
American  Legation  in  Pekin.  —  Unpalatial  Quarters.  —  Hardships  of 
Official  Life.  —  Some  Much-Needed  Reforms 94 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER  X. 

CHINA. 

Page 
The  Great  Wall  of  China.  —  Perilous  Roads  through  Mountain  Gorges.  —  A 
Wonder  of  tlie  World.  —  Other  Chinese  Walls.  —  The  Great  INIing 
Tombs.  — Good-by  to  Pekin.  — Off  to  the  Southward.  —  Down  Stream 
in  a  "  House-Boat."  — A  Chilly  Journey.  —  From  a  River-Boat  to  a  Cow- 
Cart.  —  Discomforts  of  Chinese  Travelling.  —  A  Land  of  Conservative 
Decay.  —  Progressive  Influences.  —  The  Outlook  for  China no 


CHAPTER  XL 

CHINA. 

Hong-Kong,  ths  "  Valley  of  Fragrant  Waters."  — Iron-clad  Peacemakers  in 
the  Harbor.  —  Canton,  "Great  Eastern  City.''  —  Its  Floating  Population. 
—  Aspects  of  the  Place.  —  Streets,  Houses,  Temples,  and  Pagodas.  —  A 
Chinese  Cemetery.  —  Silk-Weavers  at  Home. — A  Water-Clock.  —  A  Po- 
lice Court  in  Canton. —  Extorting  Confessions  from  Prisoners.  —  Savage 
Proceedings.  —  Methods  of  Punishment  in  China.  —  A  Chapter  of  Hor- 
rors. —  Thanksgiving  Day  in  Canton.  —  A  Home-Like  Feast.  —  An 
American-Chinese  Merchant  of  the  Olden  Time 125 


CHAPTER  XH. 

THE   ISLE    OF  JAVA. 

Voyaging  on  the  China  Sea.  —  Life  on  a  French  Mail  Steamer. — Eating, 
Drinking,  and  Resting.  —  Skirting  the  Sumatra  Coast.  —  Crossing  the 
Equator. —  A  Night  at  Singapore.  —  Climate  and  Costume.  —  A  Talk 
about  Tea.  —  The  Cup  that  may  Inebriate.  —  Some  Facts  for  Tea-Drinkers 
at  Home.  —  A  Tarry  at  Batavia.  —  Gridiron  E.xperiences.  —  A  Flight  to 
the  Cooler  Uplands \y^ 


CHAPTER  XHI. 

CEYLON's   ISLE. 

Across  the  Indian  Ocean  to  Ceylon.  —  A  Public  Garden  in  the  Tropics. — 
Among  the  Floral  Wonders.  —  The  Temple  of  the  Sacred  Tooth  of 
Buddha.  —  Venerable  Shrines  and  Relics.  —  Questions  of  Faith.  — 
Sights  and  Scenes  in  Columbo.  —  Jewels  and  Jewel  Merchants. — 
Churches  in  Ceylon 15^ 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

INDIA. 

Page 
Madras  and  the  Bay  of  Bengal.  —  Indian  Water-Craft. — A  Look  about 
Madras.  —  Calcutta. —  Its  Gardens  and  Banyan-Trees.  —  The  Burning 
Ghats  of  India.  —  A  Native  Funeral.  —  Climbing  the  Himalayas.  — 
Among  the  Lofty  Peaks.  —  Benares,  Birthplace  of  Buddha.  —  Scenes  on 
the  Ganges.  —  Cawnpore  and  Lucknow.  — Cities  of  Dreadful  Memories  .     165 


CHAPTER   XV. 

INDIA. 

Agra  Fort. —The  Glories  of  Taj  Mahal.  —  A  Marble  Paradise. —  Delhi, 
City  of  Indian  Potentates.  —  The  Story  of  Minar  Tower.  —  Shah  Jehan's 
Masterpiece.  —  Among  the  Jewelled  Temples.  —  A  Day  at  Jeypore. — 
The  Horses  of  an  Indian  Prince.  —  A  Ride  on  an  Elephant.  —  Bombay.  — 
The  Worst  Hotels  in  the  World.  —  The  Caves  of  Elephanta.  —  The 
Towers  of  Silence.  —  Parsee  Burial  Customs.  —  A  Bombay  Hospital  for 
Animals 1S4 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AR.\BTA    AND    EGYPT. 

Again  at  Sea.  —  Aboard  an  Indo-European  Grain  Vessel.  —  The  Indian 
Wheat  Question.  —  A  Warning  to  American  Farmers. — Across  the 
Arabian  Ocean.  —  Up  the  Red  Sea.  —  Visions  of  Araby  the  Curst.  —  .\ 
Great  Nation  and  its  Downfall.  —  Red  Sea  Memories. —  Mount  Sinai 
and  its  Monasteries.  — The  Gulf  and  City  of  Suez.  —  Alexandria,  a  City 
of  Romantic  History.  —  Cairo.  —  The  Mingling  of  West  and  East      .     .     209 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BIBLE    LANDS. 

From  Jaffa  to  Jerusalem.  —  Sharon,  Ajalon,  and  Ramleh.  —  Tent-Life  in  the 
Holy  Land.  —  Jerusalem  the  Golden.  —  A  Valley  of  Humiliation. — 
Zion's  Desolation.  —  The  Chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  —  A  Place  of 
Sacred  Memories.  —  Going  up  to  Jericho.  —  The  Valley  of  Jordan.  — 
By  the  Shores  of  the  Dead  Sea.  —  The  Persistence  of  the  Jews.  — Jor- 
dan's Stream  in  Poetry  and  in  Fact.  —  Lazarus'  Tomb,  and  Some  Reflec- 
tions.—  Gardens  of  Gethsemane.  —  A  Bit  of  Monastery  Life. —  The 
Fictions  of  Sacred  Places 233 


COA'TEA'TS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BIBLE   LANDS. 

Page 

Good-by  to  Jerusalem.  —  Our  Cavalcade  through  Old  Historic  Lands.  — 
Shiloh,  "  Place  of  Peace."  —  At  Jacob's  Well.  —  Sichem  and  Samaria.  — 
The  Tomb  of  John  the  Baptist.  —  On  the  Judaean  Plains.  —  Nazareth, 
—  Cana  and  Galilee.  —  Banias  and  Damascus.  —  Comparing  Notes  with  a 
Village  Sheik.  —  The  Ruins  of  Baalbec.  —  Resting  at  Beirut.  —  The  Best 
Way  to  Travel  in  the  Holy  Land 267 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

EST   ASLA   MINOR. 

Beirut,  City  of  Alexander.  —  Missions  and  Colleges.  —  Coasting  the  IMediter- 
ranean.  —  Tripoli.  —  Alexandretta  and  Aleppo.  —  Tarsus,  City  of  Saint 
Paul.  —  Mersina  and  Smyrna.  —  Ephesus  and  its  Mighty  Ruins.  —  The 
Isle  of  Rhodes.  —  Up  the  /Egean  Sea.  —  The  Turkish  Dardanelles     .     .     291 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CONSTANTINOPLE. 

The  City  of  Constantine. — The  Fairest  Scene  on  Earth.  —  The  Turkish 
Custom-House.  —  The  Dogs  of  Stamboul.  —  Turkish  Merchants  and 
Bazaars. —  The  Unspeakable  Turk  at  Home.  —  Boating  in  the  Bos- 
phoriis.  —  Sunday  in  Constantinople. —  The  Sultan  goes  to  Pra)-er. — 
A  Splendid  Pageantry. — The  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia.  —  A  Temple  of 
Magnificence. — Visit  to  Robert  College.  —  A  Spot  of  Historic  Memo- 
ries. —  Among  the  Howling  Dervishes.  —  The  Most  Interesting  City  in 
the  World 299 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ROUMANIA   AND    AUSTRIA. 

Bucharest,  "  City  of  Enjoyment."  —  Turn  Severin.  —  A  Merry  Gathering. 
—  Up  the  Danube.  —  Budapest.  —  A  City  of  Hospitals.  —  \'ienna.  — 
Her  Architectural  Beauties.  —  The  Surgical  Mecca  of  the  World.  — 
Medical  Students  at  Home  and  Abroad 323 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

ITALY. 

Page 

Across  the  Brenner  Alps. — Verona  and  Shakspearian  Memories.  —  Bologna. 

—  The  Story  of  a  Precious  Fainting.  —  A  Sanitary  Pageant.  —  The  Home 
of  Galvani  and  of  Galileo.  —  Naples^  —  Her  Pictures  and  Her  Marbles.  — 
The  Farnese  Bull.  —  The  Pompeian  Museum.  —  Relics  of  a  By-gone 
Civilization.  —  The  Aquarium  at  Naples 329 

CHAPTER  XXni. 

THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES  :     PiESTUM   AND   POMPEIL 

On  the  Bay.  —  Capri  and  Sorrento.  — A  Moonlight  Drive  to  Anialfi.  —  Dan- 
gers of  the  Way.  —  Paestum.  —  Ruin  and  Desolation.  —  Grecian  Tem- 
ples. —  Salerno.  —  On  to  Vesuvius.  —  Ascending  the  Volcano.  —  Pompeii. 

—  Sights  and  Scenes  in  the  Dead  City 341 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

RAMBLINGS    IN    ROME. 

Old  Triumphal  Arches.  —  The  Palatine  and  Capitoline  Hills.  —  The  Pan- 
theon. —  Rome  Not  Seen  in  a  Day.  —  The  Vatican.  —  The  Forum  and 
its  Memories.  —  Rome  in  Early  June.  —  Healthfulness  of  the  City.  — 
Courtesy  and  Generosity  of  the  Italians,  —  Treasures  from  the  Hand  of 
Raphael.  —  A  Marvel  in  Mosaic 353 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

THROUGH   THE   ALPS. 

Pisa,  its  Tower  and  Temples.  —  Among  the  Mountain  Lakes.  —  The  Gothard 
Tunnel  Line.  —  Marvels  of  Engineering.  —  Through  the  Snows  on  Horse- 
back. —  Geneva,  Lake  and  City.  —  A  Region  of  Fine  Scenery  and  Bad 
Theology.  —  The  Decay  of  Travel  in  Switzerland 366 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

POLAND  AND  RUSSIA. 

Berlin  to  Warsaw.  —  In  a  German  Sleeping-Car.  —  Crossing  the  Russian 
Frontier.  —  Passport  Abominations.  —  Farm-Lands  in  Russia.  —  The 
Problem  of  Tree-Planting.  —  Some  Suggestions  for  American  Farmers.  — 
Moscow,  City  of  the  Czars.  —  The  Church  the  Ruling  Power.  —  The 
Sights  of  Moscow.  —  The  Kremlin.  —  Churches  and  Palaces.  —  Off  to 
St.  Petersburg.  —  A  Sleeping-Car  that  is  better  than  Pullman's.  —  Peter's 
Summer  Palace.  —  The  Hermitage  and  its  Art  Displays.  —  Our  Lady  of 
Kazan.  —  Sunday  in  St.  Petersburg.  —  Liberty  as  Expounded  by  a  Russian 
Colonel -;So 


CONTENTS.  xi 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SCANDINAVIAN   LANDS. 

Page 
Finland.  —  Helsingfors. — Abo.  —  The  Land  of  the  Midnight  Sun. — 
Through  the  Straits  of  Bothnia. —  Norway.  —  Christiania.  —  An  Over- 
Population.  —  Relief  in  Emigration.  —  Denmark.  —  Copenhagen.  — 
From  Copenhagen  to  Schleswig-Holstein.  —  Kiel.  —  The  Great  Surgeon 
Esmarch 406 

CHAPTER  XXVin. 

PARISIAN   DAYS. 

Night  Turned  to  Day.  —  Pleasuring  in  the  Parks.  —  Place  Concord.  —  An 
Hour  with  Pasteur.  —  Hydrophobia  Antidote.  —  Sending  Patients  away 
Cured.  —  Preparing  and  Poisoning  Rabbits. —  Bouillon  and  Poisoned 
Spinal  Cord  and  Brain.  —  The  Uncertainty  Remains.  —  Great  is  Pasteur, 
None  the  Less 414 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

OLD   ENGLAND. 

Going  down  to  Essex.  —  Sunday  Rules.  —  Among  the  Hounds  and  Horses.  — 
The  Greatness  of  London.  —  What  London  Eats  and  Drinks.  —  The 
Little  Island  of  Jersey.  — Jersey  People  and  Cattle.  —  Farming  on  the 
Island 421 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

CLOSING   UP. 

The  Cost  of  Travel.  —  The  Hotels  on  the  Way.  —  Cost  of  Living.  —  Our 
Friends  the  Officials,  Diplomatic  and  Consular.  —  Unpaid  Service.  — 
What  Travelling  Teaches.  —  Starting  for  Home.  —  Good-Byes.  —  Adieus 
and  Thanks.  —  Home  Again 435 


A  GIRDLE    ROUND  THE    EARTH. 


CHAPTER   I. 

FROM   THE   MISSISSIPPI   TO   THE   PACIFIC. 

The  Starting- Point.  —  A  Halt  at  Denver.  —  Through  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains.—  Salt  Lake  City. —  California. 

A  YEAR  to  go  around  the  world  !  A  whole  twelve  months 
of  scenes  and  curious  happenings  in  far-off  foreign  lands  ! 
You  have  thought  of  doing  this  ;  almost  promised  yourself  that 
when  you  got  old  enough  and  rich  enough,  and  could  "  spare 
the  time,"  you  too  would  go  arovmd  the  world.  Most  of  us 
get  old  enough  ;  some  of  us  get  rich  enough  ;  but  the  time  !  the 
time  !  —  to  spare  the  time  ;  to  cut  loose  from  goods  and  lands, 
from  stocks  and  dreary  desks  ;  quit  clients,  patients,  readers, 
home,  and  friends  —  ay,  and  our  enemies,  whom  we  so  dearly 
love  !  Full  many  a  promise  must  be  broken,  and  few  the 
voyagers  round  the  world. 

•  •••••■ 

One  likes  to  stop  at  Denver.  The  prairie  stretch  is  ended, 
cornfields  and  flocks  and  herds  are  passed,  and  we  come  to  this 
way-off  place,  rimmed  in  by  everlasting  snows,  and  full  of  vim 
and  enterprise.  A  day  or  so  among  old  friends  ;  a  day  or  two 
on  the  Great  Burlington  Route  —  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande 
—  to  Salt  Lake  City.  Your  train  goes  playing  hide-and-seek 
among  the  towering  palisades,  darting  in  and  out  of  deep  dark 
tunnels,  whisking  around  sharp  angles,  skipping  across  wild- 
rushing  Avaters,  shying  in  front  of  pretty  cascades,  hanging  upon 
sharp  rocky  points,  rushing  and  screaming  in  and  out  among 
the  hills  as  though  scared  into  a  madcap  race  for  life  by  the 
noise  of  its  own  echoes  ;  right  along  the  base  of  the  great  Grand 

I 


2  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Canon,  defying  the  gorges  and  the  threatening  bowlders,  skipping 
across  the  raging  waters  on  deep-set  iron  brackets,  then  a  zig- 
zag scurry  far  up  the  mountain  side,  and  with  a  grand  trapeze 
movement  it  achieves  the  tip-top  Marshall  Pass,  eleven  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  —  the  highest  point  scaled  by  the  noble  iron 
horse.  But  words  will  never  tell  of  its  antics,  its  breath-taking 
dizzy  heights,  its  giddy  freaks  on  sharpest  curves  carved  deep  into 
the  rough  old  Rocky  Mountains'  sides.  High  above  the  tree- 
tops,  higher  above  the  beetling  crags,  higher  yet  into  the  dark 
thick  clouds  among  the  soaring  eagles,  there  you  ride,  and  gaze 
in  speechless  wonder,  —  wondering  that  man  should  so  dare  to 
trespass  upon  the  realm  of  the  impossible.  Hot  in  the  plain 
below,  the  mercury  falls  to  forty-five  on  that  bold,  cloud-piercing 
iron  trail. 

Taking  a  breath  or  two,  and  giving  passengers  a  chance  to 
look  down  upon  the  earth's  distorted  face,  the  train  speeds  on. 
Down,  down,  and  down,  by  crooks  and  curves,  leaping  from 
ridge  to  ridge,  across  the  swift-running  home  of  the  speckled 
trout ;  right  along  the  outer  verge  of  giddy  ledges,  then  sweep- 
ing back  to  the  foot  of  them  ;  down,  down,  and  still  deeper 
down  rushes  the  well-filled  train,  hour  after  hour,  till  the  lowest 
level  is  reached, — the  place  of  sage  and  sands,  of  deep-cut  4^  -^ 
gorge  and  steep-sided  cailons ;  over  high  bridges  and  through  ^  S^ 
the  long  dark  tunnels,  right  and  left,  to  and  fro,  between  the 
parting  rocks  and  under  the  dizzy  crags,  till  the  great  broad 
busy  plain  is  reached.  A  wonderful  trip,  and  a  way  full  of 
wonders  !  To  describe  its  grandeur  were  impossible ;  to  talk 
of  its  cahons,  its  mountain  views,  its  glens  and  parks  and  peaks, 
were  but  a  waste  of  breath.  These  be  the  noble  pictures  where- 
with the  traveller  adorns  the  chambers  of  his  brain,  the  tone 
and  composition  of  which  can  be  imparted  but  feebly. 

Salt  Lake  !  One  feels  like  taking  off  his  hat  to  Brigham 
Young ;  and  but  for  his  fearful  social  faults,  might  do  so.  But 
even  as  it  is,  let  him  be  thanked  for  conquering  Utah  ;  thanked 
for  causing  this  once  desert  waste  to  blossom  as  the  rose,  yearly 
to  yield  its  golden  harvest,  to  feed  and  clothe  the  people  ; 
thanked  for  his  brave  push  and  daring  enterprise ;  not  thanked 
that  in  these  days  of  progress,  better  thought,  and  faith  in 
social  purity,  he  should  attempt  to  curse  the  land  with  the 
deathly  demorality  of  a  Solomon  or  Saladin. 


FROM  THE  MISSISSIPPI   TO    THE   PACIFIC.  3 

A  day  in  Salt  Lake  among  friends  and  interesting  sights,  then 
off  for  the  California  Eden  ;  down  through  the  alkaline  tophet, 
into  the  fair  fruited  summer  land  that  skirts  the  quiet  sea.  I 
like  California ;  not  that  I  have  seen  much  of  it,  but  it  fills 
up  the  lungs,  stirs  up  the  blood,  chases  ejmui,  gives  new  life, 
greater  elasticity,  added  enjoyment.  Not  a  step  toward  the 
Garden  of  the  Gods  ;  not  an  inch  of  Yosemite  or  Yuba  Dam. 
The  big  trees  are  of  no  account ;  let  us  but  rest  right  here, 
out  of  the  dirt  and  clear  of  the  dust,  where  the  ocean  breezes 
come  and  the  mountain  air  makes  old  men  young  again. 

I  like  this  climate,  and  wish  it  could  be  taken  along  with  us 
and  kept  for  use  forever.  While  you  swelter  with  your  mid- 
August  nineties  in  the  shade,  we  enjoy  our  sixty-nine  or  seventy. 
While  you  try  to  sleep  beneath  a  burdensome  sheet,  we  royally 
wrap  ourselves  in  double  blankets,  quilts,  and  counterpanes,  and 
wander  with  content  into  the  ten-hour  vale  of  blissful  dreams. 
The  days  are  fairly  warm  ;  the  nights  so  delicious  !  And  the 
evenings  —  why,  such  evenings  as  we  have  would  put  every  West- 
ern-States corn-grower  in  a  perspiration  lest  the  coming  night 
and  frost  lay  his  crops  in  waste.  But  the  frost  does  n't  come ; 
night  only  dallies  near  the  margin  of  the  frost,  gives  all  her 
sleeping  children  rest,  retires  in  perfect  order,  making  room  for 
the  rising  sun,  who  comes  and  makes  the  earth  to  laugh  with 
golden  wheat,  the  purple  grape,  and  juicy  peach.  And  when 
Winter  comes,  he  leaves  his  zero  on  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain. Jack  Frost  comes,  but  he  is  not  the  careless,  costly  fellow 
whom  you  too  well  know.  He  silvers  the  planks  a  little,  just 
kisses  the  opening  rose-leaves,  but  never  blasts  a  bud.  Ice  is 
a  rarity,  in  real  fact,  else  I  am  the  most  deceived  of  mortals. 
The  winters  of  this  San  Francisco  region  are  warmer  than  the 
summers:  a  climatic  paradox.  Rainy?  Yes;  but  while  the 
skies  weep,  the  earth  rejoices,  —  puts  on  her  brightest  verdure; 
roses  burst  into  bloom.  And  while  the  Hawkeye  hugs  his  red- 
hot  stove  and  piles  on  fuel,  blankets,  and  thick  overcoats,  to 
beat  the  lower  zero  weather,  these  Californians  are  about  in 
their  shirt-sleeves  —  doors  open,  out-door  work  going  on  — 
building,  ploughing,  or  making  preparations  for  the  coming  sum- 
mer with  its  burden  of  golden  grain  and  luscious  fruitage. 

Speaking  now  of  fruit  —  you  have  all  seen  California  fruit. 
It  is  sold  in  every  store  and  railroad  train  in  every  State  and 


4  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Territory,  In  fact,  the  new  traveller  gets  hold  of  the  idea  that 
there  is  no  other  sort,  most  of  it  being  so  unripe,  tasteless, 
tough,  and  stringy ;  but  so  soon  as  he  gets  into  this  California 
country,  he  finds  he  has  been  imposed  upon ;  for  in  point  of 
ripeness,  blush,  and  flavor,  the  fruit  of  this  ocean-bordered 
State  has  no  known  peer,  I  am  glad  to  know  this,  having  said 
some  pretty  niean  things  about  California  fruit,  and  having 
heard  many  others  do  the  same.  But  it  is  not  entirely  our  fault. 
To  win  the  market,  Californians  send  out  unripe,  stringy,  wilted 
stuff,  because  the  ripened  crop  could  not  stand  the  ship- 
ping; or  if  sent  out  ripe  it  gets  so  over-refrigerated  that  the 
taste  is  much  impaired.  No,  you  must  go  to  Rome  to  see  the 
Pope ;  you  must  come  to  California  to  enjoy  California  fruit. 
No  other  country  gives  you  choice  strawberries  nine  months  in 
the  year,  and  on  no  other  tables  will  you  find  the  strawberry, 
raspberry,  and  blackberry  side  by  side  for  months  and  months 
together.  Iowa  strawberries  come  with  May  and  go  with  June. 
Those  of  California  come  with  March  and  stay  till  December. 

And  the  vegetables  —  there  may  be  better  potatoes  some- 
where, but  we  have  seen  none  so  fine.  In  fact,  everything 
grows  that  is  planted  here,  save  hay  and  corn.  The  excep- 
tion is  a  heavy  one ;  but  cattle  and  sheep  and  horses  no  more 
live  on  hay  alone  than  does  the  Christian  man  on  bread.  Mixed 
crops  of  dry  feed  are  raised  in  abundance,  and  the  mixture  of 
wild  or  cultured  cereal  straws  makes  just  as  good  horses  as  timo- 
thy and  clover.  As  to  corn  —  in  such  a  glorious  climate  as 
this,  corn  is  not  king.  He  makes  some  pretensions  here  and 
there  in  some  varieties,  but  does  not  wear  a  crown.  Corn  is 
captious,  —  wants  four-and-twenty  hours  of  broiling  heat  for  a 
month  or  two,  to  ripen  up  his  golden  seeds.  Such  restful  sum- 
mer nights  as  California  gives  her  children  chill  the  corn.  So 
she  compensates  mankind  with  most  excellent  smaller  grain,  and 
glorifies  herself  in  abundant  luscious  fruit. 

Good-by  to  California  and  the  States.  Our  ship  will  sail 
to-day,  —  this  i8th  day  of  August,  1885.  Gripsack  in  hand,  we 
hurry  up  the  gang-plank  of  the  steamer  "  Rio,"  bid  our  kind 
friends  adieu,  and  pass  through  the  Golden  Gate  and  out  to 
sea. 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS. 


CHAPTER   II. 

ON   THE   PACIFIC    SEAS. 

Life  on  Shipboard.  —  Who  are  we  all?  —  Side-lights  on  the  Missionary 
Question.  —  The  World  as  seen  from  a  Ship's  Deck.  —  Bright  Days 
and  Moonlight  Nights.  —  How  we  pass  the  Time.  —  Our  Crew  of 
Chinese  Sailors.  —  A  Lost  Sunday.  —  A  "Ship  Sociable." — Death 
on  the  Deep. — A  Ship's  Library.  —  Tempestuous  Days.  —  A  Taste 
of  a  Typhoon.  —  Safe  in  Harbor. 

WE  are  now  six  days  afloat,  —  fifteen  hundred  miles  on 
our  course ;  five  hundred  passengers  enrolled,  princi- 
pally Chinamen ;  every  day  is  serene,  and  every  night  a  star- 
spangled  charm ;  and,  with  scarce  a  sickened  soul  on  board, 
the  noble  ship  speeds  gayly  on  her  course  toward  the  happy 
isles  that  lie  beyond  the  round  globe's  broadest,  deepest,  and 
most  pacific  sea. 

Look  in  upon  us.  We  are  not  all  Chinamen  ;  some  forty 
odd  hold  first-class  tickets,  —  forty  odd,  no  two  of  us  alike, 
and  very  few  bent  upon  the  same  errand.  We  are  men,  women, 
and  children,  —  some  intent  on  business,  chasing  the  almighty 
dollar  around  the  world ;  some  hold  rank  in  our  nation's  diplo- 
matic corps,  and  some  are  going  home ;  some,  with  the  Bible 
in  their  hands,  are  going  forth  to  kindle  Christian  watch-fires  in 
far-off  pagan  lands ;  others  to  minister  not  to  minds  diseased, 
but  to  the  ills  and  pains  of  human  life ;  and  others  still  go  forth 
to  travel  over  land  and  sea  in  search  of  mental  gain  and  pleas- 
ant recreation.  We  are  American,  English,  German,  Dutch, 
and  Japanese,  —  a  very  well-assorted  happy  family. 

So  far  the  voyage  has  been  an  easy  one  ;  only  the  first  day 
out,  in  the  somewhat  restless  waters  beyond  the  Golden  Gate, 
were  the  passengers  disinclined  toward  food  and  sociability. 
Sailing  at  three  o'clock  on  Tuesday  last,  the  seats  at  table,  at 
first  well  filled,  became  ere  long  conspicuously  vacant.  Some 
took  a  taste  or  two  of  food,  then  calmly  laying  down  their  spoon 
or  fork,  stole  quietly  forth  upon  the  open  deck  to  see,  perhaps, 
what  caused  the  ship  to  roll,  or  watch,  alee,  the  festive  sporting 


6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

whale.  Others,  with  pah'ng  brows  and  grim  resistance,  defying 
heartless  Neptune,  doggedly  plied  their  knife  and  fork,  but  to 
no  purpose,  and  looking  aslant  down  the  long  rows  of  chairs 
and  plates,  picked  up  their  hats  as  though  they  had  their  fill, 
and,  with  forced  nonchalance,  followed  the  first  ones  forth  to 
commune  with  the  bounding  billows.  Husband  and  wife  were 
parted ;  the  son  forgot  his  father,  the  sister  her  brother,  chil- 
dren their  parents  ;  hope  became  swallowed  up  in  fear,  appetite 
resigned  its  eager  sway,  sociability  grew  deaf  and  dumb ;  and  as 
the  rolling  ship  ploughed  on,  and  the  dinner  courses  came  to  the 
cake  and  creamy  end,  the  softly  gliding,  long-queued  waiters 
found  none  there  to  serve,  save  a  few  old  travelled  toughs  who 
had  long  since  passed  receipts  with  him  of  the  three-fluked 
fork. 

People  all  laugh  and  cry  and  get  sea-sick  in  the  same  language. 
They  may  call  for  bread  and  meat  in  twenty  tongues  ;  but  joy 
or  sorrow  pulls  the  same  facial  muscles,  and  brings  forth  the 
same  laughs  or  moans.  It  was  not  until  the  afternoon  of  the 
second  day  that  all  returned  to  the  awning-shade  of  the  spacious 
after-deck.  Some  said  they  had  been  taking  a  quiet  rest,  — 
a-reading  like  ;  others  denied  all  illness,  but  had  been  a  little 
queer  about  the  head  and  vest ;  and  only  now  and  then  a  pa- 
tient, honor-bright,  owned  up  to  sickness  of  the  sea,  and  wished 
himself  at  home,  or  anywhere  on  earth  but  here. 

But  in  spite  of  all  this,  it  is  a  glorious  sea,  —  a  bit  restless  and 
broken  at  first,  calling  for  the  table-racks,  but  a  gently  rolling, 
swelling,  mostly  placid  sea,  that  rocks  you  as  you  ride,  with  even, 
lulling,  soothing  motion,  till  you  gently  fall  asleep  in  berth  or 
chair,  rocked  in  that  softly  swinging  cradle,  full  of  peace  and 
rest.  It  is  the  poetry  of  motion,  this  sailing  on  the  broad  and 
noiseless  sea,  days  and  weeks  from  land,  away  from  din  and  dust, 
safe  from  shore  and  care,  defiant  of  call  or  question  —  none  of 
the  world's  news  or  strife  to  disturb,  or  messages  or  orders  to 
pull  you  here  or  there.  What  is  the  business  of  the  land  to  those 
who  go  forth  in  ships  ?  What  its  politics,  its  mines,  its  loot 
and  care  ?  We  sleep  and  eat,  we  read  and  chat ;  we  are  like 
those  blooming  valley  lilies,  —  we  toil  not,  neither  do  we  spin. 

Who  are  we?  Well,  we  are  an  American  minister  and  his 
family,  going  abroad  to  represent  the  American  eagle  at  the 
capital  of  the  central  kingdom  in  the  long-lived  and  much-storied 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  7 

city  of  Pekin.  To  this  far-off  mission  is  the  stalwart  colonel 
called  from  the  land  of  the  Wabash,  —  a  noble  Wabash  sycamore, 
chosen  for  his  great  legal  knowledge  and  broad,  cool,  and  level 
head,  to  wrestle  with  the  great  and  ever-growing  Chinese  ques- 
tion. The  colonel  and  wife,  a  lovely  daughter,  and  three  prom- 
ising sons,  make  up  a  pleasant  party.  The  colonel  moves 
quietly  about,  making  most  agreeable  company,  spending  his 
more  quiet  daytime  hours  extended  on  his  deck-chair,  poring 
over  thick  volumes  of  Oriental  lore,  or  intently  browsing  among 
the  tender  twigs  of  juicy  romance.  He  spent  a  laborious  fort- 
night among  the  foes  and  friends  of  the  middle  kingdom,  in  San 
Francisco,  —  feted  and  badgered,  besieged,  bedined,  and  impor- 
tuned on  this  much-knotted  point,  until  he  found  the  quiet  and 
protection  of  the  sea.  Here,  too,  is  the  new  consul,  John  M. 
Birch,  who  goes  to  Nagasaki,  —  an  unmarried  man,  genial,  pop- 
ular with  all,  certainly  with  the  young  ladies,  among  whom  he 
is  in  perplexing  demand.  That  he  has  seen  fit  to  leave  his 
home  and  go  into  voluntary  exile,  in  that  far-off,  out-of-the-way 
port,  for  four  long  years,  seems  a  marvel.  We  also  have  a 
Princeton  graduate,  a  son  of  the  minister,  as  secretary  of  legation, 
and  one  of  the  salaried  students  who  go  abroad  in  the  interest 
of  the  State  Department  to  gain  a  knowledge  of  the  Chinese 
language.  Our  relations  with  China  are  such  that  the  education 
of  a  corps  of  young  men  in  this  language  has  become  a  necessity. 
We  are  missionaries  likewise  —  eight  or  ten  of  us  —  going  to 
China,  or  returning  to  China  and  Japan,  — old  men  and  those  of 
middle  age,  young  men  and  young  women,  —  people  of  bright 
countenances  and  mild  behavior,  who  chat  and  knit,  who  preach 
and  sing  sweet  psalms  well  interspersed  with  winsome  ballads 
from  their  Eastern  homes  and  plaintive  melodies  from  warm 
plantation  life.  They  hold  interesting  "  sociables,"  tell  stories 
of  planting  the  cross  and  teaching  the  little  ones  in  Asiatic  homes 
and  streets.  Some  are  young  and  raw  recruits,  full  of  zeal 
and  bright  anticipations,  with  a  life  of  untried  and  perhaps  bitter 
scenes  before  them.  Ov^er  there,  cuddled  up  between  the  sky- 
lights and  the  life-boat,  is  a  very  newly  married  couple,  minia- 
ture missionaries,  rather  weakly  looking,  —  a  mere  boy  and  girl, 
who  mingle  little  with  the  rest,  and  rarely  seem  even  to  smile ; 
homesick  I  know,  heart-sick  I  fear,  sea-sick  beyond  all  doubt, 
poor  weenie  ones,  going  far  from  home  and  parents'  care  to  do 


8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

ministerial  battle  among  the  distant  Asian  lands.  How  I  pity 
them  !  How  they  will  come  to  need  father  and  mother,  and 
kindly  influences  of  their  far  Ohio  home,  in  the  dreary  days  and 
trials  and  illness  that  are  sure  to  come  !  Even  now  they  gaze 
far  back  upon  the  open  sea,  and  weep  with  clasped  hands. 
Would  I  could  send  them  back  !  If  missionaries  must  be  sent 
abroad,  send  in  their  stead  some  stalwart  gospel  men  who  can 
be  easily  spared  and  who  are  better  calculated  to  bear  the  brunt 
of  this  lonely  and  tiresome  task. 

We  are  business  men,  Japanese,  going  home  from  trading- 
trips  among  the  people  of  the  States  and  other  lands,  who  have 
been  scrutinizing  shops  and  factories,  doing  their  national  dis- 
plays at  New  Orleans,  peering  curiously  into  the  knowledge  of 
other  men,  —  going  home  to  establish  new  trades  and  improve 
their  old  ones.  Small,  bright- eyed,  active,  courteous  little  men 
they  are,  who  seek  the  society  of  the  intelligent  and  pry  into  the 
business  and  logic  and  literature  of  enlightened  peoples,  to  ben- 
efit their  native  land.  I  envy  them,  as  they  talk  and  read ;  for 
what  a  world  has  been  freshly  opened  to  them  !  What  broad 
ranges  of  agriculture  ;  what  vistas  of  business,  machinery,  archi- 
tecture ;  what  long  aisles  of  the  world's  written  history,  volumes 
of  poesy  and  romance,  countless  pages  of  modern  and  classic 
lore,  to  them  until  lately  shut  out  from  view  and  sense  !  Verily, 
they  have  groaning  tables  to  feast  from ;  and  eagerly  do  they 
embrace  their  opportunities.  Unlike  their  Chinese  cousins,  they 
seek  to  come  into  harmony  with  the  outer  world,  adopt  our  ways 
of  dress,  our  business  methods,  and  theories  of  enterprise, 

"  Tell  me,"  we  said  to  one  of  our  Japanese  passengers,  "  what 
progress  in  matters  of  religion  are  our  Christian  missionaries 
making  among  the  native  people  of  Japan?" 

"Not  much,"  he  said,  —  "not  much  among  the  older  and 
better  classes  of  our  people ;  perhaps  some  among  the  lower 
classes ;  but  I  don't  think  so  very  much." 

"  How  do  you  regard  them  among  you,  —  favorably,  or  other- 
wise?" 

"Oh,  we  like  them  very  well.  They  make  us  no  trouble. 
We  like  well  enough  to  have  Christians  come  among  us  and 
teach  in  our  schools,  and  nobody  will  hurt  them." 

"  But  you  are  of  a  very  different  religion.  Do  you  like  to 
have  our  people  try  to  pull  it  down  and  bring  in  a  new  faith  ?  " 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  9 

"  Yes,  our  people  have  a  different  religion,  and  they  will  keep 
it.  But  if  a  Japanese  wants  to  be  Christian,  we  let  him  do  it  j  if 
he  wants  to  wear  American  clothes,  we  let  him ;  if  he  wants  to 
make  trade  with  Christians,  we  let  him.  It  is  all  right  if  our 
people  want  a  new  religion,  but  I  don't  think  they  do.  We  have 
a  good  religion ;  every  nation  must  have  a  religion ;  so  many 
people  are  kept  good  by  it." 

"  Do  Japanese  people  of  the  higher  and  more  educated  classes 
believe  in  Buddhism?" 

"  Not  all  do.  I  think  they  are  just  like  Christians  about  that. 
A  good  many  Cliristians  I  talk  with  don't  believe  in  the  story 
about  that  queer  way  Christ  was  come  into  the  world,  and  a 
good  many  Christian  books  printed  now  in  our  language  don't 
believe  it.  So  I  think  some  Buddhist  and  some  Christian  pretty 
much  alike  about  what  they  think." 

We  are  American  men  of  business,  hunting  trade  in  all  parts 
of  the  world,  — -  in  Australia  and  in  China  ;  establishing  houses 
of  commerce  in  Japan  and  in  the  islands  where  gums  and  spices 
grow ;  planting  agencies  in  the  furthermost  ends  of  the  earth ; 
buying  hides  in  South  America,  Mexico,  and  India ;  looking  up 
lands  in  Australia  and  New  Zealand  ;  opening  clothing  and  curi- 
osity shops  in  many  a  far-off  mart.  A  great  place  to  study  the 
world  and  its  methods  of  trade,  its  dissemination  of  useful  arts, 
industries,  and  economies,  is  the  deck  of  an  ocean-going  steamer 
where  the  keen  and  alert  merchants  make  their  homes  and  talk 
over  the  affairs  of  trade  for  many  an  ocean  day.  They  all  must 
needs  make  acquaintances,  and  talk,  and  compare  notes ;  and 
they  chat  best  about  what  they  know  best. 

Nine  ocean-steamer  days.  The  head  winds  hold  us  back,  but 
the  average  is  over  ten  miles  an  hour,  and  this  has  brought  us 
north  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  —  too  far  north  to  see  them.  That 
noble  Earl  of  Sandwich  was  a  remarkable  man  ;  he  got  his  name 
into  the  world's  atlas  and  into  the  mouths  of  hungry  people  for- 
evermore.  He  was  a  man  of  close  political  grip  in  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  when  Captain  Cook  was  afloat ;  and  he  was 
also  an  inveterate  gambler.  So  closely  did  he  pursue  the  festive 
tiger  that  he  had  no  time  to  squander  at  meals  ;  but  when  pressed 
by  hunger,  he  regaled  himself  on  split  and  meated  buns  without 
interfering  with  the  progress  of  the  game  ;  and  so  this  popular 


10  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

food  came  to  be  called  sandwiches,  and  for  him  were  the  islands 
named. 

The  outlook  is  rather  extensive.  To  ameliorate  this  daily  toil 
of  letter-writing,  the  kind-hearted  chief  engineer  of  the  "Rio" 
has  surrendered  his  cosey  office,  chair,  and  desk ;  and  the  whole 
seventy-eight  millions  of  square  miles  of  watery  waste  is  round 
about  me.  He  is  a  clever  man,  and  —  the  doctor  says,  in  a  low 
whisper  —  is  soon  to  marry  our  good  stewardess.  Asking  the 
gouty  steward  about  it,  he  scowled  and  spake  of  whales  abeam 
and  flying-fish.  Afar  to  northward  is  Alaska's  prong  of  islands  ; 
to  the  south,  the  kingdom  of  the  Sandwich  Isles.  California  is 
far  behind,  and  away  ahead  the  Asiatic  shore.  Glorious  are  the 
ocean  views.  From  this  front  door  outspreads  a  space  of  love- 
liest blue,  —  smooth-shaven  ocean  lawn,  without  a  tree  or  shrub 
to  break  the  view.  A  step  or  two  beyond  my  threshold  sports 
the  spouting  whale,  and  through  gently  rolling  waters  troop 
great  porpoise  schools.  Flying-fish  are  often  seen ;  but  our 
constant  attendants  are  long  and  stout  winged  gulls.  A  pair 
of  these  set  out  with  us  last  week,  and  for  a  thousand  miles  were 
our  only  winged  companions ;  but  meeting  a  sail  to-day,  two 
more  of  these  dauntless  scullions  of  the  sea  forsook  it  and  joined 
our  ship  to  travel  back  to  Asia.  All  day  long  they  float  and 
poise  on  steady  wing,  watching  with  eager  eyes  every  crumb 
thrown  from  the  ship's  galley,  swooping  down  upon  each  mor- 
sel, and,  with  wings  outspread  upon  the  rocking  waters,  they 
rest  and  eat,  then  mount  and  spy  again.  Our  every  meal  pro- 
vides for  them  a  feast,  with  now  and  then  a  lunch.  The  day's 
work  done,  the  eating  over,  lights  turned  down,  the  people  gone 
to  rest,  then,  also,  rest  these  busy  birds,  buoyed  upon  the  rest- 
less wave,  to  wake  at  hint  of  dawn  and  overtake  the  ship  for 
early  breakfast. 

Most  charming  are  the  sunset  skies  and  the  soft  evening 
hours.  As  Sol  sinks  down  to  take  his  needful  rest,  great  wide- 
spread banks  of  softest  golden  clouds  are  ready  to  receive  him, 
—  clouds  with  varying  tints,  assuming  shapes  of  animals  and 
ships,  cities  and  domes,  and  walls  tricked  out  with  glinting 
minaret  and  tinted  gonfalon.  Scarlet  and  crimson  stripes  and 
gorgeous  puffs  of  brightest  gold  light  up  and  decorate  the  west- 
ern sky  long  before  darkness  interferes.  Then  comes  the  big, 
bright,  silver  moon,  throwing  across  the  rippling  waves  its  long, 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  II 

wide,  trembling  silver  bridge,  broadest  and  brightest  of  all  the 
airy  structures,  with  one  pier  by  our  ship,  the  other  in  the  golden- 
appled  garden  of  Hesperides.  Over  it  through  all  the  live-long 
night  trip  troops  of  ocean  fairies,  bringing  us  bits  of  beauteous 
golden  dreams,  and  carrying  forth  to  sleeping  ones  afar  bright 
dream-thoughts  of  our  home  and  loved  ones  pillowed  there. 

Glorious  indeed  are  these  Pacific  moonlights  ;  doubly  intense 
compared  with  those  of  land,  —  sometimes  a  sunny  moonlight, 
paling  the  stars  as  gas-lights  do  the  candles.  Hour  after  hour 
in  the  night's  most  silent  watches,  heedless  of  slothful  sleep,  we 
sit  and  watch  the  lunar-glinted  waves  that  sheen  the  sea  as  far 
as  eye  or  wandering  thought  can  reach.  Tired  of  sitting,  we 
rise  and  pace  the  deck,  humming  low  airs  lest  we  disturb  the 
sleepers.  About  the  smoke-stack,  cuddled  up  like  pigs,  lie  the 
sleeping  crew  ;  while  at  the  wheel  the  sleepless  helmsman  stands 
close  by  the  tireless  guardian  angel  of  the  "bridge,"  who  paces 
to  and  fro,  scanning  the  horizon's  wide  dim  rim.  Glorious 
wakeful  nights  upon  the  broad  blue  sea,  lighted  by  moon  and 
star  —  the  ship's  great  lungs  and  heart  breathing  and  throbbing, 
as  with  a  gently  rolling  motion  she  ploughs  bravely  on.  Broad- 
backed  billows  fill  the  ocean  field ;  through  the  bright  moon- 
light glint  the  stars ;  sharp  rings  the  bell  that  counts  night's 
silent  watches,  till,  late,  Ave  go  unwillingly  below,  to  spend  the 
after-night  in  restful  sleep  and  pleasing  dreams  of  far-off  lands, 
and  far-off  friends,  and  home. 

How  do  we  live  at  sea?  In  ways  of  quiet  comfort.  At  six 
in  the  morning  we  turn  out  for  coffee,  or  take  it  in  our  berth  ; 
with  it,  some  bites  of  bread  and  jam.  Bathing  and  dressing 
take  the  time  till  half-past  eight  o'clock,  when  comes  the  break- 
fast hour.  Then,  under  the  broad  awning  of  the  spacious  after- 
deck,  we  sit  and  chat  and  smoke,  or  read  or  walk,  or  while  away 
the  hours  with  various  games.  At  half-past  ten  there  is  a  mis- 
sionary meeting  in  the  grand  saloon,  —  music  and  mission  talk, 
reminiscences  of  mission  life,  and  queer  experiences  and  ob- 
servations of  many  kinds  in  many  homes  and  lands.  At  one  is 
tiffin,  —  a  most  substantial  lunch  of  meats  and  drinks  ;  that  whiles 
away  an  hour,  followed  by  more  sitting  and  reading  or  walking 
to  and  fro,  yarning  and  gaming,  discussing  the  ship's  last  run 
just  posted  on  the  stairs,  surmising  the  voyage's  length,  studying 
maps  and  language-primers,  —  and  so  spending  the  day  till  six 


12  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

o'clock,  when  comes  the  dinner,  served  in  many  courses  by  the 
noiseless,  gliding,  deft-fingered  Chinamen.  Dinner  and  dessert 
over,  the  social  deck  is  occupied  again  till  nine  or  half-past  nine, 
when  tea  and  cakes  are  served.  Then  most  of  us  turn  in  ;  the 
few  remain  on  deck,  to  chat  and  muse  and  while  the  listless 
time  away  with  no  prevailing  sound  save  the  rippling  waves'  soft 
lullaby  and  the  mighty  engine's  ceaseless  throb. 

What  does  it  cost  to  run  this  ship?  That  is  the  very  question 
we  asked  the  mate.  Well,  a  round  trip  from  San  Francisco  to 
Hong  Kong,  including  stops  at  Yokohama  out  and  back,  occu- 
pies eighty  days.  Officers  and  crew  are  one  hundred  and  thirty 
men,  whose  wages  are  twenty  thousand  dollars ;  five  hundred 
mouths  to  feed,  and  forty  tons  of  coal  per  day,  cost  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars ;  handling  of  freight  and  other  incidentals,  say  half 
as  much  more  :  fifty  thousand  dollars  is  about  the  round-trip 
figure  of  expense,  counting  no  interest  for  investment  or  cost  of 
wear  and  tear.  It  is  a  floating  city,  a  little  kingdom,  in  which 
the  captain  is  the  king,  whose  word  is  law.  No  fuss  or  noise 
is  made,  yet  everything  is  astir ;  no  orders  are  heard,  yet  every 
one  on  duty  takes  his  stint  in  ceaseless  method. 

The  crew  are  Chinamen.  They  glide  about  the  ship  with 
noiseless  tread,  cleaning  the  deck,  ranging  through  the  rigging, 
toting  the  coals,  and  feeding  the  fires  ;  and  thus  the  round  of 
work  goes  on,  in  changing  watches,  all  the  day  and  days,  as 
though  there  were  no  place  else,  —  no  land  abroad  or  waters 
underneath. 

"  Why  do  you  employ  Chinamen  to  do  this  work?  "  we  asked. 
"  Why  not  hire  white  men?  " 

"  We  should  be  glad  to  do  so,"  the  ofificer  replied,  "  but  we 
can  get  no  such  trusty  crew  of  white  men  as  this,  in  California 
or  China.  They  obey  orders  punctually,  do  their  work  and  do  it 
well,  are  always  on  hand,  and  are  peaceable  and  sober.  I  don't 
like  Chinese  ;  but  they  are  better  sailors  and  better  servants 
than  any  crew  we  can  get,  and  so  we  employ  them.  So  long  as 
white  sailors  at  the  ports  we  touch  are  less  trustworthy  than  the 
heathen  Chinese,  we  have  to  accept  the  situation  and  do  the 
best  we  can." 

This  is  a  sad  reflection ;  but  ships  must  sail,  the  world's 
work  must  go  on  ;  and  if  the  Christian  countries  fail  to  produce 
the  best  sailors  and  best  servants  for  this  wide  ocean  trade,  then 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  I3 

must  we  sadly  bow  to  the  inevitable  and  man  our  ships  with 
foreigners.  Is  this  sort  of  trouble  increasing?  Has  the  day- 
come  upon  us  when  our  ships  and  our  homes,  our  houses  and 
our  lands,  are  being  deserted  by  the  laborers  of  our  own  race 
and  their  places  filled  from  afar  ?  Has  the  heathen  that  was  given 
to  us  for  an  inheritance  made  us  his  inheritance  ?  Perhaps  we  have 
been  five  days  too  long  in  San  Francisco,  and  seven  days  too 
long  upon  this  ship,  and  thought  too  much  about  it ;  but  if  you, 
reader,  think  this,  come  and  hear  and  see  and  judge  for  yourself. 

This  is  Saturday,  as  we  see  by  the  calendar.  Yet  to-morrow 
will  be  Monday.  The  day  we  lose  in  passing  the  one  hundred 
and  eightieth  degree  of  longitude  should  be  Sunday,  the  30th  of 
August.  The  loss  is  important ;  all  the  more  so  because  with 
it  goes  our  Sunday  dinner,  which,  on  ship  as  well  as  on  shore, 
among  most  good  people,  has  several  new  and  interesting 
features.  We  don't  very  much  care  about  the  loss  of  the 
customary  Sunday  service,  for  the  missionary  people  supply  us 
with  that  —  every  day  in  the  week.  These  services,  it  is  griev- 
ous to  remark,  are  confined,  to  an  alarming  extent,  to  the 
missionaries.  The  captain  says  there  are  nearly  six  hundred 
heathen  on  the  ship,  and  one  would  naturally  suppose  that  some 
of  these  gospel  meetings  would  be  held  in  the  steerage,  where 
these  Buddhistic  sinners  are  snugly  packed  ;  but  nothing  of  the 
sort  has  been  done  ;  and  so  these  poor  benighted  pig-tailed  souls, 
who  are  denied  all  parlor  and  piano  privileges,  get  neither  taste 
nor  smell  of  the  gospel  feasts.  It  is  hard  to  understand  these 
missionary  ways.  Why  they  wait  till  they  get  to  China  or  Japan 
before  making  a  raid  on  the  children  of  darkness,  when  there 
are  such  quantities  of  very  raw  material  so  very  close  at  hand, 
is  more  and  more  a  mystery.  Even  the  Chinese  minister  aboard 
can  give  no  satisfactory  answer  to  the  problem. 

But  perhaps  he  may  know  and  won't  tell.  There  was  a  sort 
of  ship-sociable  a  night  or  two  ago,  the  leading  feature  of  which, 
as  set  forth  in  the  bills  and  posters  pasted  on  the  gangway  mir- 
ror, was  a  lecture  from  our  minister  to  all  the  Chinas  on  the 
Chinese  question.  So  a  treat  was  counted  upon,  of  course. 
He  opened  it  up  in  good  style,  —  quoted  the  several  names  of 
Chinaland ;  brought  to  the  front  Saint  Buddha  and  the  sage 
Confucius ;  alluded  to  the  score  of  thick  volumes  he  had  read 


14  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

upon  Chinese  history,  old  and  new,  their  manners,  customs, 
arts,  religion,  and  what  not.  Then  he  slipped  a  cog,  and  about 
the  dear  Chinese  said  not  another  word,  —  not  even  why  they 
braid  their  hair  as  girls  do.  He  referred  us  to  the  learned  fed- 
eral judges,  their  writings  and  decisions,  and  all  the  more  be- 
wildered us  by  saying  that  each  one's  writing  contradicted  the 
other's  writing,  and  each  one's  opinion  was  overruled  by  the 
opinion  of  the  other ;  and  finally  that  the  topmost  bench  had 
overruled  itself.  Yet  still  there  was  hope ;  but  it  did  n't  bloom, 
for  all  at  once  he  cut  loose  from  the  real  point  he  said  he  had  to 
talk  about,  reversed  the  wheel  of  time  a  score  of  years,  and, 
with  the  stars  and  stripes  wrapped  close  about  his  towering 
form,  fought  well  again  the  battles  of  the  war.  It  was  an  elo- 
quent affair,  in  which  the  brave  colonel  paired  off  our  army  and 
our  generals  with  those  of  other  lands  and  times,  from  Arbela  to 
the  Wilderness,  to  the  great  disparagement  and  dismay  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  —  again  covering  our  loved  land  and  brave 
men  with  another  halo  of  glory,  and  warning  other  lands  and 
powers  to  look  sharp  to  their  fading  laurels.  The  audience 
was  disappointed,  yet  gladdened.  They  had  lost  their  grip  on 
China,  but  had  watched  the  eagle's  flight  with  natural  satisfac- 
tion ;  and  so  they  voted  thanks  and  gratulations.  This  much 
has  our  minister  to  China  wisely  learned,  —  to  keep  his  mouth 
shut  about  Chinese  affairs  until  he  knows  them  better. 

Death  has  found  us,  far  out  upon  the  water.  A  consumptive 
Chinaman,  who  was  hastening  home  that  he  might  die  in  the 
land  of  his  fathers,  died  this  morning,  and  the  surgeon  has  been 
down  to  embalm  him.  The  poor  fellow  had  no  money,  —  only 
a  counterfeit  quarter,  which  would  n't  pay  the  expense.  He 
would  have  been  thrown  overboard,  as  is  usual ;  but  his  fellow- 
passengers  made  up  a  purse,  and  had  his  remains  preserved  for 
Chinese  burial.  It  costs  twenty-five  dollars  to  embalm  a  China- 
man, but  white  men  must  pay  a  hundred.  Why  this  unfriendly 
regulation  in  favor  of  the  Mongolian,  I  cannot  tell.  It  is  said 
that  the  people  or  the  politicians  of  San  Francisco  would  be 
glad  to  pay  the  embalming  expenses  of  all  the  Chinamen  there, 
and  ship  them  off  to  China ;  but  it  would  be  a  sad  loss  of  politi- 
cal capital. 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  I  5 

Our  course  across  this  noble  space  of  water  is  more  than  half 
done,  and  eight  or  nine  more  days  will,  we  trust,  place  our  feet 
upon  the  Japan  shore.  Already  our  sea-wearied  passengers  gaze 
anxiously  across  the  big  ship's  bows,  hoping  to  see  a  speck  of 
land  ahead,  so  tired  are  they  of  this  seafaring  life.  They  have 
forgotten  their  sea-sickness,  got  pretty  well  acquainted,  told  all 
their  plans  and  yarns,  talked  politics  and  discussed  knotty  points 
of  theology,  been  beaten  at  cards,  and  lost  money  on  the  sailing 
pools,  gained  unerring  knowledge  of  future  bills  of  fare,  played 
and  romped  and  studied  till  there  is  really  nothing  left  to  them 
but  the  proceedings  of  the  previous  meeting. 

Novel-reading  is  a  notable  feature  of  steamer  life,  as  it  is  of 
home-life.  The  beaten  tracks  on  our  library  carpets  run  not  to 
the  historical  shelves,  nor  yet  to  those  of  science.  The  alcove 
of  religious  reading  is  terra  incognita;  but  worn  is  the  carpet 
and  broad  the  oft-trodden  path  that  leads  to  long  and  closely 
packed  shelves  of  the  novelist's  product.  Ship  reading  is  about 
the  same.  Just  wait  a  few  days  till  the  mal  de  mer  has  van- 
ished, the  novelty  of  the  sea  worn  out,  then  make  a  "round 
up  "  of  the  reading  matter.  A  history  or  two,  now  and  then  a 
fairly  written  book  of  travel,  a  magazine  or  two  —  and  novels 
everywhere  !  Paul  de  Kock  in  the  hands  of  bald-headed 
men ;  the  vagaries  of  Zola  thumbed  and  conned  by  matrons 
and  maidens  ;  the  fermentations  of  Ouida ;  and  here  and  there 
a  better  work  by  Black  or  Wallace,  or  some  one  else,  —  all  read 
and  re-read,  and  passed  from  hand  to  hand  as  though  the  chief 
end  and  aim  of  man,  the  heaven  and  hope  of  woman,  were  to 
cram  their  leisure  hours  and  gorge  their  ample  brains  with 
unreal  notions  about  imaginary  situations,  high-spiced  scenes, 
and  questionable  characters. 

And  our  Japan  friends  —  what  are  they  reading,  in  their  verti- 
cally lined  books  ?     Romance. 

"  Do  you  have  many  novels  in  your  language?  "  I  asked  an 
intently  reading  Asian. 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  have  very  many  novels." 

"Are  their  plots  and  characters  much  like  those  of  French 
and  American  writers,  —  of  home-life,  courtships,  love-scenes, 
marriage,  suicide,  and  social  fireworks  in  general?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  they  are  very  much  the  same,  only  I  like  them 
rather  better,  —  ours  than  yours." 


1 6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

"  Yes ;  but  are  your  social  customs,  then,  like  ours  ?  For 
instance,  you  are  a  young  unmarried  man  ;  you  know  many 
nice  young  women ;  you  have  picked  out  one  you  think  you 
would  like  to  make  your  wife.  What  do  you  do  about  it? 
Court  the  girl,  gain  her  consent,  and  then  go  and  ask  her  par- 
ents if  you  may  wed  her?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no  ;  that  would  n't  do  at  all.  If  I  think  the  girl  will 
make  me  a  good  wife,  I  must  go  and  ask  her  parents  first.  Our 
parents  meddle  too  much  with  young  folks'  love-affairs.  They 
want  to  know  all  about  it  —  what  we  talk  about  and  think  —  just 
the  same  as  they  do  in  Europe.  I  like  much  better  the  way  you 
do  in  America ;  and  we  must  have  it  that  way,  too,  sometime." 

"  But  where  do  you  get  the  romance  for  your  books,  if  the 
old  folks  do  the  young  folks'  courting,  and  don't  allow  them 
any  social  latitude  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  they  think  they  do  it  all,  but  they  don't.  Our 
young  folks  have  their  way,  under  the  rose,  and  all  the  more 
because  they  strive  for  what  they  are  denied.  There  are  plenty 
of  things  to  write  the  books  about." 

So  it  goes,  here  and  there,  and  in  lands  beyond  the  sea. 
"  Love  laughs  at  locksmiths,"  and  nature  ever  contends  for  its 
own  course,  and  age  forgets  not  its  youth.  And  thus  it  is  that 
chairs  and  stools  and  shelves  are  thickly  strewn  with  warmly 
tinted,  often  tainted,  books  of  fiction  ;  this  is  why  these  books 
are  closely  held  before  bright  eyes,  and  closer  yet  to  eyes  grown 
dim  with  age ;  why  heads,  both  young  and  old,  bow  to  the 
shrine  of  the  romantic  goddess  of  fiction.  On  sea  or  land,  at 
home  or  far  away,  the  same  old  father  Adam  and  dear  old 
mother  Eve  hand  down  and  down  the  ever-tempting,  ever- 
welcome,  ever-luscious  Eden  apple. 

Yesterday  was  Saturday.  Sunday  is  nowhere,  for  to-day  is 
Monday.  Perdidi  diem  f  But  the  ship  dashes  on  in  joyous 
safety,  gently  swinging  like  a  hammock,  crowding  through  the 
dark  blue  waters,  through  the  broad  and  beaming  sunlight,  under 
the  moon  and  under  the  starlight,  through  the  mists  of  morn 
and  evening,  through  the  squalls  and  past  the  cloud  drifts, 
panting  hourly  on  and  on. 

The  storm  is  past ;  the  sea  is  settling  into  a  more  quiet,  even 
surface ;  the  ship  has  resumed  her  westward  course ;  the  pas- 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  ij 

sengers  have  lost  all  appearance  of  deep  anxiety,  and  are  re- 
turning, one  by  one,  and  forming  little  conversational  knots 
upon  the  shaded  after-deck.  Many  a  one  has  had  his  wish  to 
see  a  Pacific  ocean  typhoon  fully  gratified. 

This  is  Sunday  —  the  first  Sunday  we  have  had  in  two  weeks. 
For  several  days  previous  to  Saturday,  both  ocean  and  barometer 
warned  the  officers  of  unusual  atmospheric  conditions.  The 
weather  was  hot  and  sticky.  Along  the  quiet  sea,  at  regular 
intervals,  came  great  swells  that  caught  the  ship  and  tossed 
her  right  and  left,  causing  her  to  quake  and  roll.  Chairs  were 
lashed  to  keep  them  and  their  occupants  from  being  pitched 
pell-mell  from  side  to  side ;  and  in  spite  of  table-racks,  the 
dishes  slid  and  tipped  and  spilled  in  extent  and  manner  most 
annoying  and  ridiculous.  Meat  and  drink  became  unseasonably 
mixed ;  soup,  mingled  with  wine  and  water,  dashed  suddenly 
into  one's  lap  or  coat-sleeve,  or  upon  the  carpet ;  crockery 
and  glassware  sported  about  the  tables,  —  butter-plates  bucking 
the  potato  dishes,  tureens  battering  each  other ;  knives,  forks, 
spoons,  napkin-rings,  and  salt-cellars  chasing  each  other  to 
and  fro,  —  rattling,  jingling,  and  scooting  about  with  insane 
activity. 

The  hot  nights  were  no  less  turbulent.  The  constant  rolling 
of  the  ship  made  walking  extra-hazardous,  and  in  the  constant 
effort  to  keep  from  being  rolled  from  our  berths,  many  pas- 
sengers spent  tiresome  and  sleepless  hours.  Friday  was  a  little 
easier,  and  passengers  resumed  their  games  upon  the  deck,  and 
there  was  hope  that  the  last  days  of  the  voyage  would  bring  us 
quiet  and  rest ;  but  those  who  remained  on  deck  till  the  mid- 
night hour,  and  observed  the  increasing  barometrical  depression, 
surmised  that  a  big  storm  was  abroad  upon  the  sea  and  might 
soon  overhaul  us.  Some  minutes  after  twelve  the  wind  rapidly 
increased,  and  there  was  music  in  the  air  as  it  came  whistling 
through  the  shrouds  with  fast-increasing  velocity.  All  sail  was 
taken  in,  the  life-lines  set,  and  everything  clewed  up  for  a  rattling 
gale. 

Against  the  increasing  wind  and  wave,  the  ship  pressed  stur- 
dily on  until  early  morning.  Leaving  a  very  unsatisfactory  couch 
at  half-past  five,  w^e  went  upon  deck.  To  get  there  without 
broken  bones  was  to  work  one's  passage  carefully  among  con- 
fused furniture  and  sliding  mattings,  —  stumbling,  catching  and 

2 


1 8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

holding  at  the  tables,  stanchions,  balusters,  —  anywhere  to  get 
a  grip.  The  deck  was  a  howling  wilderness.  Riotous  winds 
roared  through  the  rigging  and  into  the  throats  of  the  ventila- 
tors ;  the  air  was  filled  with  wet  and  spume  from  angry  waves  ; 
the  sea,  as  far  as  eye  could  reach,  was  a  field  of  angry  billows, 
surging  to  and  fro,  upon  which  our  ship  tossed  like  a  chip. 
Barometer  still  falling.  At  6.45  o'clock,  it  being  decided  that 
the  "  Rio  "  was  battling  with  a  typhoon,  and  that  continued 
resistance  was  unwise,  the  engines  were  slowed  and  the  ship 
was  thrown  from  her  course  and  headed  about  toward  the 
California  coast,  maintaining  only  steam  enough  to  keep  her 
to  the  wind.  This  course  was  kept  for  nearly  thirteen  hours. 
From  6.45  in  the  morning  until  about  one  in  the  afternoon,  the 
sea  gained  strength  and  fury.  Our  breakfast  was  taken  with 
one  hand  clinched  upon  the  tilting  tables,  the  other  holding 
a  cup  of  ready-prepared  coffee  or  a  piece  of  bread  and  meat. 
Only  two  of  the  lady  passengers  appeared,  and  only  the  best 
of  the  other  sex.  The  servants  were  dashed  upon  the  floor, 
plates  flew  about  the  room,  the  ship  rocked,  rolled,  and  took 
the  thumping  seas  as  they  thundered  against  her  iron  sides  and 
dashed  in  wave  and  spray  upon  the  deck.  An  ambitious  wave 
caught  life-boat  No.  10,  and  dragged  one  end  from  the  davit 
into  the  water.  A  sailor  went  down  to  fasten  a  line  to  get 
her  back  again,  when  another  sea  parted  the  fastening  at  the 
stern,  and  sent  her  spinning  out  among  the  wild  waters ;  the 
alert  Chinaman  saving  his  life  by  grabbing  a  friendly  line,  up 
which  he  suddenly  climbed  out  from  the  jaws  of  death,  upon 
the  deck.  The  unfortunate  boat  was  watched  in  vain.  Later 
in  the  day  a  fighting  wave  stove  in  another  life-boat ;  others 
leaped  over  the  topmost  skylights,  drenching  every  one  within 
reach  ;  others  burst  in  upon  the  lower  deck,  carrying  away  sev- 
eral yards  of  the  port  bulkheads,  and  giving  the  steerage  a 
watery  benefit. 

Perhaps  our  thoughts  could  have  been  read  in  our  faces. 
Many  of  us  had  never  been  to  sea  or  seen  an  ocean  storm  be- 
fore ;  and  with  these,  as  with  some  who  had  won  their  spurs  in 
ocean  tempest,  there  was  a  deeply  seated  gloom.  Many  an 
unrecorded  wish  was  made  in  the  rueful  hours  of  Saturday.  The 
cook's  galley  had  been  washed  out,  spoiling  all  chance  for  a  good 
lunch  or  dinner ;  nor  could  we  have  eaten  such,  had  they  been 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  1 9 

cooked.  The  half-past  twelve  lunch  was  a  sight  to  see.  Those 
who  sat  down  upon  the  drenched  cushions  fought  for  every 
mouthful,  holding  by  one  hand  to  the  most  convenient  object, — 
a  catch-as-catch-can  affair,  that  was  ludicrous  to  behold.  Ser- 
vants were  climbing  the  steep  deck  of  the  ship,  then,  as  she  rolled 
back,  working  their  way  down,  sliding  on  the  floor,  —  biscuit, 
meat,  potatoes,  and  Chinamen  rolling  and  darting  about  in  the 
most  vexatious  irregularity.  In  spite  of  the  dangers  of  the  hour, 
—  the  bumped  heads,  contused  limbs,  deathly  sickness,  and  lines 
of  deep  melancholy  and  dejection,  —  laughs  would  break  out ; 
and  I  am  really  afraid  that  the  handful  of  steady-nerved  ones 
who  kept  open  house  in  the  smoking-room,  and  "  tried  to  cheer 
their  comrades  and  be  gay,"  got  too  little  credit  for  their  good 
offices.  Regardless  of  their  real  thoughts,  they  bravely  breasted 
the  melancholy  tide,  and,  even  at  the  risk  of  appearing  heartless, 
smoked  away  the  dizzy  storm,  told  their  stories  and  sung  their 
songs,  holding  themselves  as  still  as  they  could  with  a  constant 
grip  ;  while  others  stayed  below  and  with  trembling  hands  tried 
on  their  life-preservers. 

At  half-past  one  o'clock  we  noted  a  change  in  the  sea,  and 
the  ugly  rolling  was  a  trifle  easier ;  but  the  barometer  kept  on 
falling.  At  three  the  change  was  quite  perceptible  ;  but  the  glass 
kept  getting  worse  and  worse  till  six  o'clock,  when  it  came  to  a 
stand  and  remained  so  for  an  hour.  At  seven  it  began  to  rise  ; 
and  then  we  knew  the  storm  had  swept  past,  the  ship  had 
rode  it  out,  and  we  were  safe.  With  the  rise  of  the  glass  rose 
the  spirits  of  the  sick  and  faint-hearted.  Color  came  back  to 
pallid  faces  and  animation  to  blanched  cheeks  and  anxious  eyes. 
The  storm  was  past  and  danger  had  flown  away.  The  timid 
ones  sang  for  joy,  and  vivacity  and  thankfulness  pervaded  every 
tongue  and  heart.  The  shrieking  winds  had  spent  their  fury ; 
no  life  had  been  lost ;  and  they  spoke  in  hushed  tones  only  when 
talking  of  what  might  have  been  had  our  good  ship  sprung  a  leak, 
or  been  injured  in  her  vital  parts,  or  failed  us  in  the  dark  tem- 
pestuous night. 

This  is  the  month  for  typhoons  along  the  Japanese  coast,  yet 
they  are  not  of  frequent  experience  with  these  steamers.  The 
word  "typhoon  "  is  Chinese,  —  ta-fung,  "great  wind."  One  in 
1874  cost  thirty  thousand  lives.  Captain  Seabury,  in  forty  years 
upon  the  sea,  had  rode  no  fiercer  gale,  nor  had  he  seen  the 


20  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

barometer  at  so  low  a  point  —  twenty-eight  degrees  —  as  his 
reached  on  Saturday ;  though  Captain  Krusenstern  records,  in 
1S04,  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  mercury,  when  the  storm 
became  tieh  kii^  an  "  iron  whirhvind."  The  estimated  rate  of 
the  typhoon,  or  great  circular  gale,  is  from  eighty  to  one  hundred 
miles  per  hour,  according  to  Captain  Bedford's  handbook,  the 
latter  figure  representing  winds  that  dismast  and  often  sink  the 
best  of  sailing-ships.  The  pressure  of  an  eighty- mile  gale  is 
about  thirty-one  and  a  half  pounds  to  the  square  inch,  —  a 
pressure  before  which  no  sails  can  be  used.  In  these  gales 
steamers  have  a  great  advantage  over  sailing-vessels,  inasmuch 
as  the  former  can  leave  their  course  and  steam  out  of  the  storm  ; 
while  the  latter  has  no  such  choice,  but  must  stay  and  ride  on 
with  it  and  abide  the  consequences. 

The  storm  has  passed,  and  those  who  wished  to  view  a  thor- 
oughly maddened  sea  have  had  their  wish  ;  they  have  had  rather 
more  than  they  expected,  —  more  of  absolute  danger  than  they 
ever  counted  on  or  ever  want  to  see  again.  And  yet  it  is  the 
most  gi-and  and  awe-inspiring  of  all  pictures.  The  swift-revolving 
storm  lashes  the  ocean  into  desperate  fury,  the  waves  mounting 
and  dashing,  producing  tints,  amid  the  spume  and  foam,  of  won- 
drous range  and  beauty.  The  highest  storm  wave  is  not  the 
"  mountains-high  "  wave  of  fiction,  but  the  twenty-five  or  thirty 
feet  high  wave  of  fact,  and  is  not  a  mild  or  easily  managed  foe 
to  meet.  Yet  our  ship  is  a  good  sailer,  and,  for  such  a  storm, 
took  less  water  and  underwent  less  loss  and  damage  than  many 
a  one  has  done.  She  is  ably  officered,  and  rides  the  water  like 
a  duck.  The  Chinaman  makes  an  excellent  stormy-weather 
sailor,  going  to  his  appointed  work,  aloft  or  alow,  with  admirable 
alacrity  and  efficiency.  To  be  sure,  he  is  a  heathen,  and  of 
course  a  terrible  sinner ;  but  when  the  hour  of  danger  comes, 
he  is  a  very  good  man  to  have  around.  Of  course  in  his  time 
of  intense  peril,  when  many  a  life  depends  upon  his  steady  nerve 
and  iron  muscle,  he  has  no  thoughts  such  as  the  Christian  thinks  ; 
but  as  he  has  a  chance  for  his  life,  he  whips  out  his  bit  of  joss- 
paper,  with  its  bit  of  tinsel  and  cabalistic  words,  and  burns  it  on 
the  altar  of  the  storm-god.  Below  in  the  gilded  cabin  good 
Christians  prayed  that  God  would  stoop  from  his  heavenly  height 
and  calm  the  raging  storm  ;  on  the  storm-stricken  open  deck,  and 
farther  below  in  the  fetid  steerage  pen,  the  heathen  burned  his 


ON  THE  PACIFIC  SEAS.  21 

prayer-paper.  The  one  will  tell  you,  when  the  storm  is  done, 
that  the  prayer  of  the  pious  hath  great  avail  with  Heaven ;  the 
other  will  tell  you  that  his  precious  joss-paper  works  wonderful 
effects  with  the  powers  of  the  wind  and  sea.  Since  the  storm 
is  over,  we  are  not  very  captious  about  these  points  of  theology. 
The  prevailing  opinion  in  the  smoking-room  chapel  is  that  a 
stanch  ship,  ably  officered  and  manned,  is  a  better  antidote  for 
this  typhoon  fiend  than  either  missionary  or  heathen  joss. 

At  all  events,  the  storm  has  left  us ;  God  has  been  good  to 
us ;  the  sea  is  calm  again,  the  ship  is  crowding  on ;  we  shall 
see  land  to-morrow,  and  port  next  day, — just  nineteen  days 
from  the  other  shore. 


*^^ 


22  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER    III. 

JAPAN. 

Yokohama.  —  Street  Scenes.  —  The  yinrikis/ia 'M&n.  —  Japanese  Farm- 
ing Regions.  —  Glimpses  of  Home-Life.  —  Ruined  Shrines  and  Tem- 
ples.—  Images  of  Buddha. 

JAPAN  !  The  "  Rio  "  dropped  anchor  in  the  broad  harbor 
of  Yokohama  on  Monday  evening  at  nine  o'clock.  And, 
by  the  way,  we  have  heard  from  that  raging  typhoon  torment 
several  times  since  landing.  An  English  ship  got  into  it  with 
less  sea-room  than  we  had,  and  was  compelled  to  pass  its  focus. 
She  lies  out  in  the  harbor,  minus  two  life-boats  and  several 
spars.  A  French  ram  is  also  anchored  there,  with  like  expe- 
rience. A  good  many  people  have  reason  to  remember  that 
unpleasant  reception  on  the  Eastern  Asiatic  coast.  It  was  an 
experience  well  worth  having,  of  which  one,  however,  is  better 
than  two. 

Pacific  ocean  !  Magellan  gave  it  this  misleading  name.  It 
was  on  his  trip  around  the  world  in  1520,  when  after  some  six- 
teen months  of  furious  storms,  and  a  loss  of  more  than  half  his 
fleet,  he  fought  his  way  through  the  Patagonian  straits,  to  which 
he  gave  his  name,  and  came  into  the  quiet  waters  of  the  open 
sea,  which  he  noted  in  his  log  as  the  mer pacijique  ;  and  Pacific 
it  has  been  from  that  day  on,  —  the  plain  adjective  becoming, 
without  intent,  the  adopted  name  of  the  most  spacious  division 
of  the  globe. 

Yokohama  !  The  word  means  "  across  the  bar."  It  is  a  cu- 
riously mixed  up  seaboard  city,  —  a  medley  of  all  nations,  and 
of  all  sorts  of  dress,  undress,  vehicles,  and  architecture.  Fine 
stores,  good  hotels,  —  American,  English,  German,  French, 
Dutch,  Chinese,  Japanese,  —  broad  streets,  narrow  streets,  canals, 
goods  of  all  kinds,  shows  of  too  many  kinds,  climate  hot  and 
enervating,  —  a  paradise  of  people  of  leisure,  Mecca  of  curio 
traders  and  those  who  sell  more  staple  goods.  The  natives  are 
undersized,  brown-skinned,  black  haired,  a  frank  and  simple-man- 


JAPAN.  23 

nered  people,  who  have  absorbed  a  tinge  and  taint  of  foreign 
habits  and  customs,  and  a  sharp,  emotional  way  of  getting  the 
best  end  of  all  kinds  of  bargains.  In  matters  of  dress  they  are 
much  mixed,  varying  from  the  full-fledged  English  costume  to 
the  half-native  and  the  full-native,  the  latter  being  part  clothing 
and  part  or  entirely  naked  truth.  Children  of  the  lower  classes 
seem  to  thrive  in  the  costume  of  Eden,  and  many  grown  people 
of  both  sexes  seem  given  to  a  somewhat  scandalous  economy  in 
matters  of  raiment. 

The  native  part  of  the  city  is  a  succession  of  narrow  streets  of 
toy  houses,  sometimes  two.  stories,  more  often  one,  with  roofs  of 
tile,  shingle,  or  thatch.  Every  little  store  or  shop  is  both  shop 
and  dwelling,  having  an  open  space  in  front  for  exposing  goods 
for  sale,  and  a  raised  matted  floor  on  which  the  proprietor, 
family,  loungers,  and  customers  lie  about  in  a  promiscuous  way, 
— some  clad,  some  partly  clad,  and  others  neither.  The  narrow 
unpaved  streets  are  thronged  with  people ;  some  men  are  carry- 
ing loads,  others  are  hauling  freight  on  two-wheeled  carts,  and 
jiiirikishas  are  hurrying  to  and  fro  in  much  confusion.  Every 
one  is  good-natured,  easily  pleased,  and  apparently  happy. 

To  be  hauled  about  at  a  lively  trotting  pace  by  human  beings 
hitched  to  carts  is  a  queer  sensation.  The  vehicle  is  the  jin 
(man)  riki  (power)  sha  (wheel),  and  is  a  Yankee  missionary's 
invention.  It  has  two  wheels  about  three  feet  high  and  two  and 
one  half  feet  apart.  Swung  upon  the  axle  by  light  three-leaved 
elliptic  springs  is  the  seat  of  an  old-fashioned  gig,  with  folding 
top  to  keep  off  sun  or  rain.  The  seat  is  eighteen  inches  wide, 
upholstered  in  cloth  or  leather ;  and  between  the  thills  the 
coolie  steps,  after  you  are  seated,  catches  a  thill  in  each  hand, 
brings  his  load  to  a  balance,  and  starts  upon  an  easy  loping  trot 
—  or,  if  in  a  hurry,  on  a  smart  run  —  to  the  given  destination. 
Going  into  the  country  some  twenty  miles  or  more  the  other 
day,  I  timed  my  men,  —  a  little  wiry  fellow  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds  weight,  and  a  pusher  of  the  same  stature,  —  and 
they  made  the  first  eight  miles  in  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  : 
quite  as  fast  as  one  would  jog  his  horse  and  buggy  on  our 
prairie  roads.  Returning,  and  on  a  favorable  road,  they  would 
make  mile  spurts  in  four  to  five  minutes,  tearing  down  steepish 
roads  at  a  rate  at  which  one  would  not  drive  a  horse,  and  in 
which  a  misstep  or  a  collision  would  prove  disastrous. 


24  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Having  "  done  "  the  city  fairly  well,  visited  a  score  of  tea- 
houses, drunk  a  gallon  of  hot,  delicious  Japan  tea,  paid  our  re- 
spects to  the  powers  that  be,  and  to  Buddhistic  priests  and  those 
of  Shin-to,  seen  the  native  plays,  and  ordered  thinner  and  more 
comfortable  costumes,  we  took  a  guide  and  sheets  and  certain 
meats  and  soups  and  drinks,  and  put  off  for  Enoshima  by  way 
of  Kamakura,  the  former  place  being  over  twenty  miles  from 
Yokohama.  We  went  in  pursuit  of  scenery,  temples,  tea-houses, 
native  color,  —  to  spy  out  the  land  and  its  people.  There  were 
twelve  of  us,  —  my  governor,  the  Duke  of  Nagasaki,  our  English- 
speaking  guide,  myself,  and  eight  coolies.  AVe  had  four  silver- 
plated  jhirikishas.  A  span  of  horses,  with  a  single  driver,  would 
have  answered  every  purpose  and  much  reduced  the  length  of 
the  procession  and  the  expense  as  well ;  but  what  can  a  carriage 
and  pair  do  on  a  six-feet  country  road  with  frequent  two  or 
three  board  bridges  ?  Not  much ;  so  we  did  what  had  to  be 
done,  —  rode  behind  the  nervy,  sweating,  benighted  heathen ; 
and  it  was  not  a  bad  ride  either.  One  never  fully  realizes 
what  uses  human  flesh  and  blood  can  be  put  to  until  he  has 
packed  his  kit  and  gone  abroad  in  distant  lands.  At  first  I 
did  n't  feel  quite  right  to  see  those  panting  fellows  hauling  me 
up  hill  and  down,  and  really  wished,  on  their  account,  my 
weight  was  some  pounds  less ;  but  then,  reflecting  that  a  good 
book  has  plainly  set  it  down  that  the  heathen  is  a  considerable 
part  of  our  rightful  inheritance,  put  all  conscientious  qualms 
aside,  and  lit  a  fresh  cigar. 

Out  into  the  Japan  farming  region  we  went,  —  up  the  wide, 
meandering  valley,  with  its  branches  right  and  left  extending 
into  the  bordering  hillsides,  clothed  with  bushes  ever  green ; 
along  narrow  strips  of  unfenced,  clean-ditched  district  road, 
stretching  out  among  the  well-kept  garden  grounds ;  among 
rice-fields,  bench  above  bench,  levelled  up  one  after  another,  as 
the  grade  runs  up  or  down,  to  hold  the  ever-needed  water.  We 
passed  fields  of  rice  and  beans,  peas,  bird-seed ;  now  and  then 
some  sweet  potatoes,  water  potatoes,  and  sugar-cane,  with  not  a 
weed  or  straggling  bush  in  sight.  Still  the  road  went  on,  by 
scattered  thick-thatched  dwellings ;  yards  fenced  with  bamboo, 
and  neatly  laid-up  rice-straw  stacks ;  past  the  plainly  sculp- 
tured mile-stones,  and  the  wayside  springs  of  purest  water,  fur- 
nished with  small  shell  dippers,  that  all  who  come  may  drink ; 


JAPAN.  25 

past  the  frequent  wayside  chapels,  with  their  rudely  sculptured 
Buddhas,  reminding  one  of  Italian  and  Swiss  wayside  shrines 
for  silent  prayer  to  the  madonna  or  her  son.  On  and  on  we  go 
through  straggling  hamlets,  with  wide-corniced,  green-decked 
roofs,  till  suddenly  the  'rikishas  wheel  into  a  neat  and  well- 
swept  court,  where  we  are  warmly  welcomed  by  clean  and  trimly 
clad  wives  and  daughters,  who  beg  us  to  remove  our  honora- 
ble shoes,  and  sit  upon  their  soft,  clean  matting,  rest,  and  sip 
the  fresh-brewed  tea  from  tiny  cups,  and  taste  of  dainty  sugared 
rice-cake  and  many  sweet  and  toothsome  confections  which  they 
hasten  to  bring  forth.  As  we  sit  there  the  whole  household 
gathers  about,  curiously  watching,  looking  at  our  rings  and  dia- 
monds, chatting  and  laughing,  brewing  and  pouring  tea,  bowing 
many  bows  ;  reminding  one,  for  all  the  world,  of  simple,  careless, 
merry  children,  who  know  no  harm  and  feel  no  fear. 

Departing,  they  make  repeated  and  very  low  bows,  thanking 
us,  over  and  over,  big  and  little,  old  and  young,  for  our  patron- 
age j  bidding  us  good-by  and  good  fortune,  and  asking  that  we 
come  again.  Lunching  at  these  places,  they  take  you  to  their 
ornamental  garden,  with  its  trained  dwarf  trees  and  flower 
shrubs  and  mimic  temples.  From  the  smooth-walled  pools 
they  scoop  out  the  choicest  pearl-scaled  fish,  which  are  dressed 
and  cooked  to  a  delicious  turn  and  served  on  neat  blue-figured 
earthen  ware.  Bring  your  own  bread,  if  bread  you  want ;  for 
in  the  copious  language  of  this  country  there  is  no  such  word  as 
bread  —  or  soap.  The  housewife  has  no  baking  days,  no 
bread,  biscuit,  rolls,  buns,  or  cakes  and  pies  about  her  tidy 
house.  Rice  and  vegetables  there  are  in  abundance,  but  not  a 
bit  of  bread.  How  must  many  a  Christian  woman  envy  these 
poor  heathen  housewives  !  for  though  of  all  housekeepers  they 
are  most  scrupulously  clean,  they  have  no  kneading  of  dough, 
no  mixing  and  rising,  no  yeasting  and  watching,  no  baking  or 
icing.  Not  a  Japanese  husband  finds  fault  with  his  wife's  bread  ! 
What  a  blessing,  even  in  the  land  of  the  pagan  !  What  use  of 
sending  missionaries  to  such  people  as  these?  What  use  to  talk 
to  them  of  the  bread  of  life  ?  The  Eucharist,  to  these  simple 
ones,  is  nonsense ;  they  know  no  bread  nor  wine. 

But  we  must  move  on,  —  over  hills  with  their  far  and  lovely 
views  of  mountain,  vale,  and  ocean  ;  along  the  green-fringed 
banks  of  brooks,  and  among  the  tall  forest-trees,  by  the  rushing 


26  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

waters  and  among  the  singing  birds  and  giant  butterflies  ;  past 
more  farm-houses,  painted  black,  or  painted  not  at  all ;  over 
the  hills  and  through  the  cool  gorges,  out  in  the  sun  and  into 
the  shade,  past  stone-laden  and  lumber-laden  carts,  drawn  and 
pushed  by  brawny-limbed  and  knotty-chested  coolies,  —  men 
doing  the  work  of  mules  and  oxen ;  past  native  ponies  laden 
with  rice,  straw  bales,  or  long,  slim,  trailing  bamboo  ;  past  quan- 
tities of  mats,  on  which  the  barley,  beans,  and  other  seeds  are 
being  thrashed  or  cleaned,  or  spread  out  to  dry ;  past  troops 
of  naked  young  folks  and  half-dressed  men  and  women,  work- 
ing among  the  fields  about  the  house,  or  basking  in  the  shade, 
returning  your  kindly  greeting  —  ohyo,  "  good-morning  "  — 
with  friendly  bow  and  smile. 

Verily,  we  are  a  long  way  from  home  and  in  a  very  strange 
country.  The  cook  and  carpenter  sit  at  their  work ;  nor  does 
the  blacksmith,  cooper,  or  coppersmith  stand  at  his.  No  man 
enters  his  house  until  he  has  removed  his  sandals ;  no  speck  of 
dirt  is  brought  upon  the  smooth-waxed  or  softly  matted  floors, 
upon  the  feet  of  any  one.  Think  of  it,  ye  American  wives  who 
toil  all  day  to  sweep  out  the  mud  and  dirt  brought  in  on  shoes 
and  boots,  daubing  the  clean-washed  floors  and  soiling  and  foul- 
ing your  thick  and  ever  dusty  carpets,  —  only  think  of  it !  And 
your  mild-eyed  pagan  sister  over  here  knows  not  your  sad  fate, 
or  she  would  send  you  missionary  aid.  In  her  parlor  there  is 
no  chair  or  sofa ;  no  bric-a-brac,  no  nothing  but  cleanest  of  all 
wood  and  softest  of  all  mats.  Step  into  her  bedroom,  if  you 
please.  There  is  no  bed,  no  furniture  whatever,  only  neatly 
plain  or  lacquered  woods  and  finest  braided  mats.  Shove  back 
the  paper-paned  screen  sash.  The  whole  floor  is  one  room. 
Slide  them  into  place  again.  Behold,  it  is  all  bedrooms,  halls, 
dining-rooms,  parlors,  anything  you  please,  —  big  rooms,  little 
rooms,  or  all  the  rooms  in  one.  Everything  is  most  carefully 
clean ;  for  is  it  not  written  in  their  household  words,  that 
"  when  the  houses  of  the  people  are  kept  clean,  be  certain  that 
the  government  is  respected  and  will  endure  "  ? 

About  these  rooms  in  every  house  hang  printed  paper  proverbs, 
plain  or  framed.  Shall  I  translate  a  few? — "Buddha  will  bless 
us."  "  He  does  not  like  us  bad."  "  Shin-to  will  take  care  of 
good  family."  Our  guide  translated  many  more  of  the  same 
sort;   and  we  wondered  if  the  mottoes  hung  up  in  Christian 


JAPAN.  27 

homes  of  late  years  were  not  copied  from  or  suggested  by  such 
as  these.  Can  it  be  true  that  in  lands  other  than  Christian 
lands  there  are  pure  and  noble  thoughts,  pure  and  happy 
homes,  good  people  and  good  customs,  that  we  might  thrive 
in  head  and  heart  and  pocket  by  carefully  copying  ? 

Still  on  the  road  to  Enoshima,  working  along  through  the 
paddy-fields,  along  the  neatly  cultivated  lands.  Inquiring  the 
cost  of  farm  help,  we  find  that  from  six  to  ten  cents  a  day  is 
the  average  price,  according  to  season  and  demand,  which,  as 
the  laborer  boards  himself,  cannot  be  called  excessive  ;  and  yet 
in  a  country  where  a  pennyworth  of  rice  will  feed  a  man  all  day, 
and  much  less  than  that  amount  provide  him  with  clothes,  the 
price  cannot  be  said  to  be  too  httle.  In  countries  where  the 
wages  paid  are  from  five  to  ten  times  the  cost  of  board  and 
clothes,  there  would  seem  to  be  no  ground  for  complaint,  even 
though  the  price,  like  this  one,  seems  to  be  ridiculously  small. 
Inquiring  further,  we  find  that  female  help  at  houses  and  taverns 
is  about  two  dollars  a  year  with  board  and  clothes.  This  does  n't 
seem  to  leave  much  margin  for  profit ;  yet  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
these  girls  have  about  as  much  money  saved  at  the  end  of  the 
year  as  many  of  our  servants  who  receive  far  greater  wages. 

Before  going  to  Enoshima,  let  us  take  a  rest  at  Kamakura. 
It  is,  or  was,  a  place  that  you  may  not  know  or  care  to  know 
much  about.  Probably  you  will  not  find  it  on  your  map  ; 
and  yet  long  before  you  were  born,  and  long  before  this  Chris- 
tian era,  Kamakura  was  a  large  and  influential  capital.  Nothing 
now  remains  but  a  small  village  or  two,  and  here  and  there  a 
temple,  some  old  gateways,  stairways  of  stone,  statues  of  wood 
and  stone  and  brass  and  bronze,  that  tell  of  the  greatness  and 
the  glory  that  once  pervaded  the  spot ;  and  as  you  pass  from 
shrine  to  shrine,  and  observe  the  traces  of  a  long-dead  past, 
you  cannot  help  feeling  that  your  visit  has  been  postponed  too 
long  by  several  hundred  years. 

What  shall  I  show  you?  There  are  many  temples,  chapels, 
shrines,  gates,  imposing  approaches,  grand  old  trees,  and  various 
objects,  all  so  new  and  queer  and  strange  one  knows  not  how 
to  pick  them  up  and  show  them  to  a  reader,  so  as  to  make 
them  interesting.  But  here  is  Hachi-man,  the  fine  old  Shin-to 
temple.  Imagine  yourself  two  miles  away  from  it,  looking  toward 
it,  —  down  a  long,  straight,  broad,  and  elevated  causeway,  hned 


28  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

by  fine  old  trees,  and  gated  here  and  there  with  gates  of  stone 
and  bronze.  This  is  a  mere  hint  at  the  once  noble  approach  to 
the  temple,  over  which  the  worshippers  passed  in  grand  pro- 
cession over  the  road  and  the  curiously  Avrought  stone  bridge 
that  spans  the  wide  canal.  Here  the  procession  halts  ;  only  the 
tycoon  and  his  noble  lords  can  pass  farther  on.  At  the  rise  of 
three  stone  steps,  the  nobles  must  dismount  and  bare  their  feet, 
for  this  is  holy  ground.  A  little  farther  on,  the  tycoon  must 
dismount  at  the  stair  of  a  single  step ;  for  no  four-footed  beast 
may  farther  go.  With  bared  heads  and  feet  they  proceed  to 
the  chapel,  then  to  the  grand  granite  stair\vay,  some  fifty  feet  in 
width  and  as  many  steps  in  height,  up  by  the  sacred  trees  and 
graven  images,  then  through  the  gates,  whose  posts  and  hinges 
are  of  aged  bronze,  into  the  sacred  temple's  stone-paved  court. 

It  cannot  be  described  so  you  can  understand  it,  for  I 
don't  understand  it  myself;  but  as  you  turn  to  the  left,  an 
old  man  —  a  priest,  or  bonze  —  with  gravest  mien  and  shaven 
head,  takes  a  few  coppers  in  payment  for  a  printed  prayer  or 
sacred  amulet,  which  is  supposed  to  give  one  peace  of  mind 
and  devotional  purpose,  as  the  temple  gate  is  reached.  The 
procession  is  far  behind ;  the  nobles  enter,  the  tycoon  pene- 
trates to  the  inmost  holy  place  where  none  but  him  may  go. 
Kneeling  are  the  countless  worshippers,  hushed  is  every  voice ; 
for  within  the  darkened  recess  the  greatest  of  the  land  holds 
communion  with  the  Omnipotent. 

This  was  in  the  far-gone,  dimly  lighted  past.  We  of  the 
present  are  less  formal.  Passing  leisurely  along,  we  too  mount 
the  steps,  rest  midway  beneath  the  big  trees'  shade,  invest  our 
seti  in  printed  prayers,  tread  the  smooth-hewn  granite  walks, 
but  enter  not  the  holy  house  ;  that  is  for  other  feet  and  for 
heads  with  other  thoughts.  Passing  around  the  temple,  along  a 
painted  colonnade,  an  attendant  displays  curious  old  swords 
and  armor,  pottery  and  lacquered  plates,  —  treasures  of  times 
long  past  and  rulers  long  since  dead  and  gone.  We  wander 
about  among  the  sacred  flowering  cherry-trees,  about  the  walks 
and  carved  and  painted  woods,  past  shrines  and  lanterned 
stones  of  curious  shape  and  meaning. 

Farther  on  is  another  temple.  Mounting  long  steps,  \vith 
balustrades  of  plain  hewn  moss-grown  granite,  we  come  past 
pyramidal  stones  and  sacred  trees  and  shrines,  to  a  dimly  lighted 


JAPAN.  29 

temple  with  seated  images  of  painted  or  gilded  wood.  Here, 
too,  are  packages  of  printed  prayers,  which  we  may  buy  and 
chew  into  pulpy  balls  and  throw  at  the  seated  images  at  either 
side  of  the  opening.  If  you  chew  your  prayer  up  well,  and 
throw  it  straight,  it  will  hit  the  painted  fraud  square  on  the 
nose,  or  on  his  breast  or  cheek.  If  it  sticks,  you  have  won 
good  luck,  and  your  prayer  is  efficacious.  If  it  does  n't,  you 
buy  another  and  try  again. 

Behind  large  folding-doors,  opened  but  twice  a  year,  stands  a 
great  gilded  image,  carved  from  a  single  piece  of  camphor-wood, 
thirty-five  feet  high,  and  large  in  proportion ;  this  is  the  wife 
of  the  god  Dai-Butsu,  who  sits  in  bronze  some  distance  away. 
By  the  light  of  dim  candles,  elevated  by  the  pock-marked,  merry 
bonze,  we  gaze  upon  this  lady's  gilded  greatness,  more  im- 
pressed by  the  excellence  of  the  carving  and  richness  of  the 
gilding  than  by  any  odor  of  sanctity.  A  few  coppers,  and  a 
friendly  slap  on  the  fat  priest's  shoulders,  cause  him  to  open 
wide  his  strong-toothed  mouth  and  roar  with  laughter.  Stopping 
to  take  a  cup  or  two  of  tea  in  passing  down  the  steps,  the  silver- 
haired  old  mother  tries  to  remove  my  finger-ring;  but  finding  it 
immovable,  she  laughs  and  chatters,  pats  my  hand,  rings  a  very 
clear-toned  bell  that  looks  like  an  old-time  spice-mortar,  pours 
out  another  tiny  cup  of  tea,  bids  us  good-by,  and  bows  us  many 
thanks  for  having  called  to  see  her.  How  these  people  amuse 
and  charm  me  !  Of  course  I  know  they  are  awfully  benighted 
heathen,  and  have  got  to  suffer  frightfully,  with  a  lot  more  of  us, 
through  all  eternity ;  yet  one  can't  weep  all  the  time  about  that, 
so  we  sit  and  chat,  sip  tea,  eat  sweets  with  these  old  folks  and 
young  folks,  children  and  babies,  and  have  a  real  merry  frolic, 
using  what  words  we  chance  to  know,  and  so  passing  a  pleasant 
hour.  They  are  so  frank  and  cheery,  so  free  from  form  and  cere- 
mony, that  you  really  imagine  you  have  come  upon  old  friends 
and  are  having  a  chat  and  romp  with  old-time  neighbors. 

But  let  us  move  along  to  Dai-Butsu,  "great  Buddha,"  past 
pyramidal  stones  and  images,  along  a  hewn-stone  walk,  up  the 
middle  of  a  broad  court ;  and  there,  full  in  front  of  us,  squatting 
on  a  broad  cut-stone  pedestal,  sitting  as  if  in  deepest  thought, 
is  Buddha,  the  great  and  glorious  rich  bronze  Buddha,  —  the 
effig}'  of  him  before  whom  more  knees  are  bent  and  more  heads 
are  bowed  in  trust  and  prayer  than  are  bent  and  bowed  before 


30  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

any  and  all  other  earth-born  deities.  In  grand  composure,  and 
with  peacefully  folded  hands,  he  sits  in  pose  of  deepest  thought, 
and  from  eyes  of  purest  gold  looks  down  upon  the  world  of  wor- 
shippers. This  grand  image,  which  has  been  sitting  here  seven 
hundred  years,  is  one  of  the  finest  pieces  of  bronze  work  in  all  the 
world  of  art,  —  made  by  these  groping  heathen  while  yet  Amer- 
ica was  undiscovered  and  Europe  was  black  with  bigotry.  It  is  a 
wonderful  statue.    Would  you  measure  it  ?    Its  height  is  fifty  feet, 

—  a  sitting  figure,  mind  you.  To  go  around  its  base  you  walk  a 
hundred  feet.  From  point  of  chin  to  top  of  forehead  is  eighteen 
feet  six  inches,  and  its  width  from  ear  to  ear  is  seventeen  feet 
nine  inches.     Measure  an  eye  —  four  feet  across  ;  an  eyebrow 

—  quite  as  long ;  the  nose  is  three  feet  ten  ;  an  ear  is  six  feet 
nine  ;  the  space  from  knee  to  knee  is  thirty-seven  feet ;  the  cir- 
cumference of  thumb,  three  feet.  The  head  is  said  to  be  of 
gold  bronze,  and  worth  a  third  of  a  million  dollars.  The  body 
and  limbs  are  of  fine  bronze,  cast  in  sheets,  two  inches  thick,  and 
skilfully  brazed  together  and  neatly  finished  at  the  seams.  With- 
in are  stairs,  a  little  chapel,  places  to  sit  about.  On  the  floor 
are  four  huge  bronze  lotus  leaves,  once  a  part  of  the  image's 
base,  —  the  same  old  lotus  lily  that  you  see  in  the  Egyptian 
temples  of  five  thousand  years  ago;  the  same  lily  expressive 
of  more  modern  faiths  ;  the  same  lily  of  the  annunciation  that 
Saint  Gabriel  holds,  as,  kneeling  in  the  presence  of  the  timid  Vir- 
gin Mary,  he  announces  there  that  mystery  of  gods  and  men,  — 
the  immaculate  conception,  the  mystic  coming  of  the  Christ. 
So  does  this  same  bronze  lily,  that  we  see  here  in  far-off  pagan 
Asia,  or  among  the  sands  of  hoary  Egypt,  or  in  the  pictured 
glories  of  the  Vatican,  with  its  creamy  soft-curved  petals,  ten- 
derly and  closely  link  together  religions  old  and  new,  and  plainly 
preach  to  us  in  many  languages  and  shrines  of  peace  and  love 
and  purity,  also  of  mystic  birth.  Before  this  lovely  lily  leaf 
have  all  the  great  religions  bowed ;  on  the  Nile,  the  Jordan, 
Ganges,  and  Euphrates,  and  by  the  tawny  Tiber,  —  all  have 
bowed ;  and,  in  one  form  or  another,  all  continue  to  bow. 
Wonderful  lily,  mysterious  lily,  —  lily  of  Osiris  and  of  the  Dagon 
Bel ;  lily  of  Buddha ;  lily,  too,  of  Christ,  —  who  shall  tell  us 
when  at  first  it  rooted  in  the  religious  heart  ;  where  first  it 
bloomed  and  gave  these  earthly  children  thoughts  of  peace  and 
hope? 


JAPAN.  3 1 

And  yet  we  have  not  described  the  legendary  caves  and 
bronzed  temple  gates  on  the  island  Enoshima,  whither  we  were 
going ;  have  said  not  a  word  of  our  greeting  by  the  busy  host 
and  happy-looking  hostess  at  Katase,  nor  told  how  the  pretty, 
laughing,  busy  daughters  showed  us  our  softly  matted  rooms  in 
the  sweet  and  airy  second  story ;  how  they  brought  pipes  and 
tea,  fresh  water,  dainty  towels,  dinner,  and  wooden  pillows  ;  how 
we  bathed  in  the  sea-surf  and  slept  sweetly  on  our  matting. 
All  this,  and  many  things  queerly  and  curiously  done,  we  have 
not  now  time  or  space  to  tell,  but  only  to  say  we  are  quite  out  of 
the  world  that  we  know  about,  and  in  one  in  which  each  turn 
of  the  eye  has  a  fresh  surprise  ;  where  manners  are  strange  and 
the  ways  of  the  people  are  simple ;  where  people  are  plenty  and 
raiment  often  scarce,  —  among  the  merry  happy  heathen,  the 
mild-mannered  children  of  Adam,  who  may  sin  and  know  it 
not. 


32  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

JAPAN. 

Tokio,  the  Eastern  Capital.  —  The  American  Legation.  —  Japanese  City 
Life.  —  Curious  Street  Conveyances. —  Hotels  and  Restaurants.  —  A 
Japanese  Printiiig-Otitice.  —  Type-setting  under  Difficulties.  —  The 
Educational  Quarter.  —  The  University  of  Japan.  —  The  University 
Library.  —  Medical  Department  and  Hospital.  —  The  Missionary 
Quarters. 

FROM  good  old  Peter  Parley  we  learned  that  the  great  city 
Jeddo  was  in  the  Island  of  Niphon  ;  and  that  was  all. 
In  these  latter  days,  since  the  jNIikado  has  made  his  capital  here, 
the  city  has  taken  the  name  of  Tokio,  the  eastern  capital ; 
and  for  a  longer  space  of  time  the  island  has  been  known  to 
the  world  as  Japan.  In  former  times,  as  to-day,  Tokio  took 
rank  among  the  larger  cities  of  the  world  ;  it  now  contains  some 
six  hundred  thousand  people.  It  is  a  second-rate  seaport,  sev- 
enteen miles  from  Yokohama,  the  principal  port  of  the  nation. 
Between  the  two  places  is  a  well-built  double-track  railroad 
over  which  well-equipped  trains  run  every  hour  during  the  day 
and  most  of  the  night,  on  schedule  time  of  forty-five  minutes. 
The  coaches  are  Japanese,  first,  second,  and  third  class,  having 
seats  upholstered  in  red  leather  or  cloth,  or  made  of  plain  wood, 
according  to  class.  Most  of  them  are  "smokers,"  with  open- 
bottom  spittoons,  or  spit-holes,  set  into  the  floor.  Most  of  the 
natives  have  learned  to  sit  upon  the  seats  as  we  do,  but  some 
prefer  to  squat  upon  the  floor  or  seats  in  Oriental  fashion. 

About  the  first  thing  to  be  done  in  Japan,  after  arriving  at 
Yokohama,  is  to  go  up  to  Tokio,  the  home  of  the  Mikado  and  of 
the  American  minister ;  for  without  the  aid  of  both  these  func- 
tionaries your  trip  must  be  confined  to  the  treaty  limits,  —  a 
few  miles  beyond  the  seaports.  The  passports  you  get  from  the 
Secretary  of  State  at  Washington  have  no  value  whatever  in  aid- 
ing your  inspection  of  interior  Japan,  While  the  Japanese  can 
go  anywhere  he  pleases  in  America  or  Europe,  no  American  or 


JAPAN.  33 

European  can  go  where  he  pleases  in  Japan.  This  seems  to  be 
a  one-sided  sort  of  treaty,  but  it  is  a  fact ;  and  as  the  Japanese 
authorities  very  kindly  furnish  any  extent  of  passport  you  may 
ask  for  through  your  minister,  the  regulation  works  no  hardship 
after  all. 

Our  legation  at  Tokio  is  very  pleasantly  located  in  the  foreign 
quarter ;  the  place  is  of  Italian  villa  style,  with  commodious 
offices,  and  spacious  and  well-furnished  reception  and  family 
apartments.  The  minister  finds  plenty  of  work  to  engage  his 
attention.  To  a  business  man  it  would  seem  as  though  our 
Japanese  affairs  had  not  been  properly  administered.  For  in- 
stance, we  buy  of  Japan  all  her  tea  and  much  of  her  silk  crop, 
which  come  into  our  ports  free  of  duty.  This  and  some  small 
items  amount  to  fourteen  millions  of  dollars  annually,  —  mostly 
for  tea,  not  a  car-load  of  which  crop  do  they  place  in  any  other 
market.  In  return  for  this  trade,  they  buy  of  us  about  three 
millions  annually,  —  mostly  petroleum  product.  It  is  a  large 
part  of  Minister  Hubbard's  duty  here  to  see  that  the  eleven 
millions  drawn  from  our  commerce  is  materially  reduced,  —  not 
by  decreasing  our  purchases,  but  by  causing  this  people  to  feel 
that  it  is  to  their  interest  to  buy  more  goods  in  America  of  such 
kinds  as  they  are  now  buying  elsewhere.  America  is  in  no  way 
compelled  to  look  to  Japan  for  tea  or  silk,  both  of  which  prod- 
ucts are  of  inferior  quality  in  that  country.  Most  fabrics  now 
imported  into  Japan  are  from  Europe.  A  little  more  activity 
over  there  might  tend  very  materially  to  regulate  this  heavy  bal- 
ance against  us,  and  make  room  for  more  of  our  over-products. 
One  thing  is  certain  :  nothing  will  be  accomplished  in  this  behalf 
without  effort.  Our  minister  is  doing  his  share,  but  he  needs 
active  co-operation  from  our  enterprising  manufacturers. 

In  its  general  dimensions,  Tokio  is  eight  miles  wide  by  ten 
miles  long.  It  contains  several  fine  large  parks,  large  and  small 
gardens,  numerous  temples,  shrines,  and  costly  tombs,  statues, 
and  public  fountains.  Broad  canals  cut  it  through  and  through, 
crossed  by  numerous  bridges  of  wood,  stone,  and  iron.  It  has 
a  long  stretch  of  double  and  single  track  street-railways, 
equipped  with  American  cars.  Gas  is  used  for  street  and  pri- 
vate light,  though  on  account  of  expense  most  of  the  stores  and 
dwellings  use  kerosene  and  oil,  in  modern  lamps  or  native 
paper  lanterns.     The  telegraph  is  much  used  all  over  the  coun- 

3 


34  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

try,  the  lines  being  erected  in  the  most  substantial  manner. 
Telephones,  electric  bells,  and  hand-grenades  for  quenching 
fire  are  getting  into  use,  and  now  and  then  one  sees  a  bicycle 
or  a  tricycle.  The  streets,  some  of  which  are  spacious  and 
planted  with  avenues  of  shade  trees,  are  mostly  narrow,  —  av- 
eraging not  more  than  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  —  and  are  lighted 
at  night  with  gas,  kerosene,  and  Chinese  lanterns.  There  is  no 
sewerage  ;  yet  so  punctually  do  scavengers  perform  their  work, 
that  offensive  odors  are  not  more  noticeable  than  in  our  larger 
cities.  Night-soil  is  a  leading  factor  in  this  country's  agricul- 
ture ;  and  whether  in  city  or  village  or  farm-house,  or  by  the 
country  roadside,  great  account  is  made  of  it,  and  great  results 
achieved. 

.  There  are  large  stores  and  small  ones,  the  latter  very  nu- 
merous, and  usually  comprising  store  or  shop  and  dwelling  all 
in  one.  The  display  of  goods  is  not  so  general  in  the  larger 
stores  as  with  us ;  but  to  each  is  attached  a  fire-proof  godown, 
or  warehouse,  in  which  the  main  stocks  are  kept  and  from  which 
they  are  brought  when  needed.  In  the  smaller  shops  the  goods 
are  much  displayed,  and  the  purchaser  may  sit  or  stand  and  make 
selections  ;  but  visiting  larger  ones  you  put  off  your  shoes  at  the 
threshold,  and  put  on  some  ready  slippers  or  go  in  stocking-feet 
over  the  clean  matted  or  brightly  polished  wooden  floors,  to  do 
your  trading.  The  soiled  soles  of  boots,  shoes,  clogs,  or  san- 
dals are  not  to  enter  Japanese  dwelling,  shop,  store,  shrine,  or 
temple.  You  may  keep  your  hat  on  as  much  as  you  please,  — 
native  men  and  women  rarely  cover  their  heads  at  all,  —  but 
look  well  to  your  foot-gear ;  for  nails  and  dirt  that  mar  and  soil 
the  floor  and  mats  must  be  left  at  the  portal.  What  a  world  of 
labor,  patience,  toil,  and  trouble  such  a  custom  saves  ! 

The  street  transit  service  is  abundant.  There  are  street-cars, 
bashas  (a  sort  of  two-horse  omnibus),  jiiirikishas,  kagas  (sus- 
pended baskets),  in  which  the  public  may  ride  about ;  or  you 
may  take  the  street  afoot,  —  side,  middle,  anywhere  you  like. 
Sidewalks  are  an  exception,  and  are  confined  to  more  fashiona- 
ble streets,  but  are  not  much  used.  For  all  purposes  of  rapid 
locomotion,  the  jinrikisha  is  the  thing.  The  brawny,  fleet- 
footed  coolie  (the  word  is  Hindostanee,  kuli,  "  slave  "  ),  puts  him- 
self between  the  thills,  and  takes  you  about  at  a  jog  trot  or  rapid 
run  with  speed  and  safety.     Put  two  coolies  tandem  to  your 


JAPAN.  35 

cart,  and  you  fairly  fly.  Wishing  to  go  one  night  to  a  quarter 
of  the  city  called  Oyvveno,  some  six  miles  from  our  Seiyoken, 
the  four  karumas  made  the  whole  distance,  through  crowded 
streets,  dashing  over  bridges,  flying  around  sharp  corners,  part- 
ing the  crowd  with  shouts  and  screams,  and  setting  us  down 
inside  of  forty  minutes.  Landaus  and  coupes  are  rare  upon  the 
streets,  being  used  only  by  the  dignitaries ;  and  before  them 
runs  the  lively  betto,  who  clears  the  crowd  and  opens  up  the 
way. 

A  city  of  some  six  hundred  thousand  people,  and  but  a 
single  hotel,  and  not  a  spire  to  be  seen  !  The  Seiyoken  is  the 
only  hotel  at  which  you  may  register,  sit  on  chairs  at  the  table, 
sleep  upon  a  bedstead,  and  live  in  some  measure  as  at  home. 
There  is  a  restaurant  on  a  mixed  plan,  and  a  European  club- 
house ;  but  the  inns  are  almost  entirely  native,  where  you  eat 
upon  the  floor  and  sleep  right  where  you  eat.  In  our  country 
raids  we  have  to  do  this  way,  and  in  time  one  may  come  to  like 
it.  With  all  the  rest,  you  must  feed  yourself  with  chopsticks,  — 
a  feat  in  gastronomic  jugglery  in  which  I  have  not  yet  become 
adept.  I  can  hold  the  sticks,  if  I  hold  them  quite  still ;  but 
any  attempt  to  manage  the  things  seems  sure  to  bring  disaster. 
Grabbing  at  a  mouthful  of  rice  or  fish,  the  sticks  slip  crosswise, 
and  oftener  the  morsel  goes  flying  to  the  floor  or  on  one's  lap 
than  it  reaches  its  intended  destination.  It  requires  nerve  to 
eat  with  chopsticks.  Any  hesitation,  the  least  lapse  of  nerve 
or  joint  or  muscle,  flings  your  food  into  the  most  unexpected 
places.  Early  education  counts  more  in  the  use  of  chopsticks 
than  any  one  would  think.  At  first  sight  it  seems  simple 
enough,  but  to  do  it  well  is  extremely  difficult.  The  novice 
should  not  attempt  it  before  company. 

Casting  about  the  city  one  day,  and  taking  in  the  many  sights, 
—  museums,  street  shows,  exhibitions  of  strength,  and  what 
not,  —  we  fell  back  on  first  principles  and  wandered  to  a  news- 
paper office.  They  have  plenty  of  newspapers  here,  said  to  be 
good,  and  well  worth  reading ;  but  for  reasons  of  my  own  I 
don't  read  the  Tokio  papers.  After  a  thirty  years'  newspaper 
career  one  should  be  quite  content  to  quit  that  sort  of  reading. 
But  halting  our  ka?'itmas  at  the  door  of  the  "  Nichi-Nichi  Shin- 
bun  "  (Daily  News),  we  went  in.  The  door  was  twenty  feet 
wide.     Behind  a  low  counter  sat  five  clerks.     Passing  one  of 


2,6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

them  our  card,  we  were  told  that  the  proprietor  and  editors  had 
gone  home.  Asking  to  be  permitted  to  step  into  the  press- 
room, a  boy  was  kindly  called  to  conduct  us.  The  press-room 
was  on  the  same  floor,  and  contained  four  or  five  treadle  job 
presses,  all  at  work,  and  two  steam-power  news  presses,  one  of 
which  was  running.  They  were  of  English  make,  without 
"  flies ; "  one  man  to  feed  white  paper,  and  another  to  receive 
and  pile  the  printed  sheets.  The  edition  was  from  eight  to 
ten  thousand,  according  to  demand.  The  paper  is  delivered  by 
carriers,  at  §8.50  a  year. 

We  were  then  shown  into  the  type-setting  room,  upstairs.  It 
was  a  large  room.,  like  too  many  other  printing  places  in  all 
countries,  —  cluttered  up  with  boxes,  tables,  stands,  and  all  sorts 
of  rubbish,  pitched  about  in  needless  confusion.  The  whole 
printer  class  is  alike.  I  have  been  in  their  dens  in  every 
land  and  continent,  and  find  them  quite  the  same,  —  almost 
always  wanting  in  order  and  cleanliness  of  room  and  appurte- 
nances. Just  why  printers  should  be  thus  content  to  delve  in 
dirt  and  confusion  is  not  for  me  to  say ;  but  that  is  what  the 
average  printer  does. 

The  chief  feature  of  the  "  Shinbun  "  ofiice  was  its  type-case, 
for  there  was  only  one  case  of  body  type.  And  such  a  type- 
case  !  Shade  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  what  a  case  !  Suppose 
we  measure  it.  It  is  divided,  for  utility,  into  two  sections  slop- 
ing toward  an  alley  five  feet  wide.  Each  section  is  four  feet 
wide  by  thirty  feet  long.  Four  feet  by  sixty  !  There  's  a  news 
case  for  you.  This  is  divided  into  small  compartments,  or 
boxes,  into  which  the  type  is  laid  in  regular  piles,  —  several 
piles  of  different  letters  in  the  same  box,  —  with  faces  all  towards 
the  compositor,  and  "  nicks  "  all  one  way.  In  the  alley  are  ten 
or  twelve  compositors,  —  mostly  boys,  big  and  little.  Each 
holds  a  wooden  "  stick,"  with  brass  rule.  The  type  are  all  of  a 
size  ;  the  "  stick  "  is  not  set  to  the  measure  of  the  column,  but  to 
about  half  that  measure  —  it  being  the  business  of  other  work- 
men to  impose  the  lines  in  columns,  take  proofs,  and  make  up 
forms. 

Now,  then,  for  the  tj^pe-setting.  Armed  with  sticks  and  rules, 
the  dozen  compositors  read  a  line  or  two  of  the  "  copy  "  in  a 
sing-song  voice,  each  rushing  to  some  box  far  or  near  for  the 
first-needed  letter,  then  back  ten  or  twenty  feet  for  the  second 


JAPAN.  37 

one ;  all  are  on  the  lively  move,  —  rushing  and  skipping  to  and 
fro,  right  and  left,  up  and  down,  chasse,  balance  to  partners, 
swing  the  corners,  up  and  back,  singing  the  copy,  catching  one 
letter  here,  another  there,  prancing  and  dodging,  humming  and 
skipping,  —  a  promenade,  cotillon,  Virginia  reel,  raquet,  and 
all  hands  around,  upon  the  same  floor  at  the  same  time, 
and  the  same  dancers  in  each,  —  a  perfect  babel  of  noise  and 
confusion,  yet  out  of  confusion  bringing  printed  order.  It  was 
a  sight  to  be  seen,  —  twelve  lively  printers  setting  type  from 
one  case  ! 

"  How  many  different  characters  are  there  in  this  case?  "  we 
asked  our  guide.  Then  our  guide  asked  the  printers,  the  print- 
ers asked  the  foreman,  but  none  could  answer  better  than  to 
say,  "  Nobody  knows,  sir ;  nobody  knows.  Many  thousand." 
Later  on  we  repeated  the  question  to  a  more  intelligent  person, 
who  said,  "  At  least  fifty  thousand."  Japanese  printing  is 
mainly  done  in  Chinese  characters.  That  will  account  for  the 
remarkable  size  of  the  case,  and  the  racing  to  and  fro  of  the 
compositors.  Just  why  they  intoned  their  copy  all  the  while 
was  not  made  clear  to  us,  further  than  the  remark  that  it  was 
the  custom.  The  price  paid  for  composition  depends,  as  else- 
where, on  quantity  and  quality  of  work  performed,  the  best  of 
the  compositors  earning  about  thirty  dollars  a  month. 

By  this  time  it  had  become  known  that  there  were  strangers 
about,  and  the  gentlemanly  editor  of  the  "  Romanji  Zasshi  "  ap- 
peared and  kindly  invited  us  to  his  private  office.  The  "  Ro- 
manji Zasshi "  is  a  small  quarto  literary  sheet,  printed  in  Roman 
type,  and  published  in  the  interest  of  a  movement  now  being 
made  among  prominent  Japanese  to  substitute  the  Roman  for 
Chinese  characters.  This  gentleman  kindly  conducted  us  to 
the  office  of  Mr.  G.  Fukuchi,  proprietor  of  the  "  Nichi-Nichi 
Shinbun,"  who  introduced  the  editors,  with  whom  we  spent  a 
very  agreeable  half-hour.  IMr.  Fukuchi  had  fair  command  of 
the  English  language,  and  was  fully  conversant  with  newspaper 
matters.  He  had  been  printing  the  "  Shinbun  "  several  years, 
found  it  a  good  business,  and  is  very  anxious  to  have  the  Roman 
alphabet  adopted  by  the  powers  of  Japan.  "  For  in  type-setting 
alone,"  said  he,  "  it  would  make  in  my  expenses  a  difference  of 
thirty-three  per  cent."  He  had  tried  to  print  a  weekly  edition 
of  his  paper  for  country  circulation,  but  was  quickly  discouraged 


38  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

by  the  fact  that  there  came  a  rapid  falling-off  in  city  subscrip- 
tions, too  many  city  readers  being  content  with  a  weeldy  instead 
of  a  daily  paper. 

Tokio  monopolizes  the  Japan  newspaper  business ;  there 
being  only  one  other  point,  Kofu,  in  eastern  Japan,  where  news- 
papers are  printed.  The  masses  of  the  people  are  able  to  read 
in  their  own  way,  but  comparatively  few  can  grasp  the  full  flow 
of  Chinese  characters.  In  point  of  illiteracy,  the  statistics  place 
this  nation  at  only  seven  per  cent,  or  next  to  Bavaria,  which 
is  the  lowest  on  the  list. 

Of  great  interest  in  Tokio  is  the  educational  quarter,  —  the 
University  of  Japan,  through  which  we  were  conducted  by  Pro- 
fessor Waddell,  of  the  civil  engineering  department.     Tokio  is  a 
city  of  schools, — common  schools  which  all  children  must  attend  ; 
mission  schools  of  the  various  evangehcal  sects  ;  private  schools 
where  arts,  sciences,  and  language  are  taught ;  all  crowned  by 
the  Imperial  University,   established  under  the  new  order  of 
affairs.     This  university  has  about  two  thousand  students,  under 
the  charge  of  about  eighty  professors,  who  teach  from  four  to 
five  hours  daily,  at  a  salary  of  $4,000  each.    The  campus  is  within 
the  city,  and  comprises  about  one  hundred  acres  of  high  ground, 
formerly  the  private  property  of  one  of  the  daimios,  or  feudal 
lords.     Some  of  the  departments  have  large  and  commodious 
modern  buildings  of  brick  and  stone.      The  library  comprises 
over  150,000  volumes,  60,000  of  which  are  English,  German, 
and  French.     And  here  let  me  stop  to  record  the  fact  that  what 
we  are  pleased  to  term  the  pagan  country  of  Japan  —  a  country 
with  less  than  one  half  as  much  arable  land  as  the  State  of  Iowa 
—  devotes  $9,000  a  year  to  the  development  of  her  university 
library  of  150,000  volumes.     The  medical  department  is  ample 
and  much  patronized.     It  is  of  the  so-called  "  regular  "  school, 
with  large  facilities  for  clinic  and  laboratory  work.     Connected 
with  it  is  a  spacious  hospital,  in  which  are  treated  many  patients. 
The  rooms  of  the  several  wards  are  commodious,  abounding  in 
air  and  light,  and  all  fully  equipped  with  comfortable  beds  and 
other  needed  appurtenances.     Sewerage  there  is  none  ;  yet  for 
downright  cleanliness  and  entire  absence  of  all  offensive  odors, 
the  university  hospital  of  old  Japan  may  safely  challenge  com- 
parison with  any  in  the  world.    We  went  from  ward  to  ward  and 


japan:  39 

room  to  room,  among  the  beds  of  the  sick  and  suffering ;  yet 
we  found  nothing  in  the  least  degree  offensive  to  the  smell. 
The  medical  museum,  also,  with  its  countless  specimens,  its 
doleful  souvenirs  of  fell  disease  and  death,  was  as  positively  clean 
and  free  from  any  impure  odor  as  your  nicest  sitting-room  or 
parlor.  The  amphitheatres  and  places  for  dissection  and  vivi- 
section were  in  the  same  good  order.  It  was  most  remarkable  ; 
and  we  came  away  thinking  that  if  cleanliness  be  next  of  kin  to 
godliness,  surely  there  is  but  one  short  step  in  this  far-away  land 
from  earth  to  heaven. 

The  Japanese  Government  is  making,  out  of  its  own  material, 
studious,  efficient  men,  —  men  of  letters  and  of  science,  doctors, 
surgeons,  lawyers,  engineers ;  filling  their  country  with  new 
thoughts,  new  energies  and  activities.  For  nearly  twenty  years 
this  good  work  has  been  progressing.  Twenty-five  —  yes,  fifteen 
—  years  ago  the  life  of  a  foreigner,  unaccredited,  might  not  have 
been  worth  a  rush  in  Tokio  ;  now  one  may  go  where  he  wills, 
and  be  welcome.  Molesting  no  one,  he  will  be  treated  with 
courteous  kindness  and  be  made  to  feel  as  much  at  ease  as  any- 
where in  the  most  favored  lands. 

Hitherto  all  cost  of  tuition  and  much  of  the  general  support 
of  students  at  the  university  has  been  borne  by  the  government. 
To  induce  bright  young  men  to  prepare  themselves  for  the 
trades  and  professions,  the  imperial  treasury  has  been  open  wide 
for  all  these  years.  Now  that  the  plant  is  well  started,  and  the 
people  see  that  the  fruit  is  good,  the  government  has  fixed  a 
tuition  rate,  just  now  going  into  effect,  of  about  twenty  dollars 
yearly ;  helping  only  such  with  board  and  lodging  as  are  poor 
in  pocket,  leaving  the  rich  to  provide  for  themselves. 

We  spent  some  hours  at  the  missionary  quarters.  Are  the 
missionaries  doing  any  good  in  Japan,  —  making  any  impres- 
sion on  the  old  religion?  You  hear  these  and  similar  questions 
often  asked.  The  answer  will  depend  somewhat  upon  who 
makes  it.  Let  us  step  into  Dr.  Gardiner's  Episcopal  school  at 
Tokio.  He  has  a  school  of  young  men  and  women,  whom  he 
is  fitting  for  Christian  lives  and  work.  They  are  taught  to  speak 
and  read  in  our  tongue,  and  to  become  familiar  with  the  Bible 
and  with  Christian  thought.  The  Doctor  feels  confident  that 
good  and  permanent  work  is  being  done  for  his  church ;  and 
every  missionary  will  tell  you  the  same,  —  that  Christian  thought 


40  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  action  are  well  begun  here.  The  school  buildings  are  good, 
and  the  homes  of  the  mission  people  as  good  as  any  in  Tokio,  — 
well  supplied  with  home-like  comforts.  This  is  all  as  it  should 
be.  The  churches  should  not  ask  missionaries  to  go  abroad  to 
live  in  hovels,  and  to  suffer  for  food,  raiment,  or  pleasant  sur- 
roundings, or  even  for  luxuries ;  and  so  far  as  we  have  seen  or 
heard,  none  of  them  do.  We  have  asked  others  than  mission- 
aries what  the  work  amounted  to  as  far  as  they  might  know,  and 
have  to  say  the  report  has  not  been  favorable,  Whether  true  or 
not,  the  missionaries  are  accused  of  leading  lives  of  sunny  ease, 
—  living  in  the  best  of  houses,  surrounded  by  servants,  taking  to 
labor  sparingly,  having  far  more  of  this  world's  temporalities 
than  does  the  average  contributor  to  the  mission  fund.  Such 
answers,  and  still  harsher  ones,  come  from  our  own  people,  — 
not  from  the  natives,  —  from  merchants,  men  of  the  professions, 
men  of  the  sea,  men  of  the  press  and  of  the  diplomatic  service. 
Possibly  we  have  been  unfortunate  as  to  inquiries  ;  possibly  the 
mission  people  have  no  good  reason  to  expect  friendly  indorse- 
ment from  Europeans  and  Americans.  Yet  one  thing  is  certain  : 
we  are  no  whit  wiser  than  when  we  put  the  first  question  to  a 
Yankee  who  had  spent  many  years  in  China  : 

"  What  effect  is  Christianity  having  upon  the  old  religion  of 
Buddha  and  Confucius?-" 

He  replied :  "  About  as  much  as  a  flea  on  the  back  of  an 
elephant." 

Again,  we  asked  of  a  mission  man  long  in  the  Chinese  land  : 

"  What  effect  is  the  Christian  mission-work  having  in  China?  " 

Without  hesitation  he  answered  : 

"  Tlie  leaven  we  are  placing  there  will,  in  God's  own  time  and 
favor,  leaven  the  entire  loaf." 


JAPAN.  41 


CHAPTER  V. 

JAPAN. 

Among  the  Mountain  Temples.  —  The  Holy  City  of  Nikko.  —  A  Ride 
along  the  Queen's  Highway.  —  Tree-Planting  in  Japan.  —  Processions 
and  Festivals.  —  Gorgeous  Temples  and  Mighty  Images. 

NIKKO  is  a  holy  city,  about  a  hundred  miles  from  Tokio, 
in  a  mountainous  district  two  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea.  It  is  a  place  of  shrines  and  temples,  tycoon  tombs,  and 
most  curious  ecclesiastic  developments.  The  exultant  Neapoli- 
tan counsels  us  to  "  See  Naples  and  die."  The  Genoese,  with 
better  sense,  says,  "  See  Genoa  and  live."  And  now  comes  the 
Japanese  critic  and  says,  "  Until  you  have  seen  Nikko,  never 
say  beautiful."  On  the  margin  of  my  Murray  a  friend  has 
written  :  "  To  visit  Japan  and  not  see  Nikko  would  be  like 
going  to  India  without  seeing  the  Taj  Mahal."  So,  summing  up 
the  testimony  in  the  case,  we  decided  to  waste  no  time  before 
seeing  the  beautiful  precinct. 

The  road  was  terrible.  But  it  was  all  the  Empress's  fault. 
The  progressive  Mikado,  or  emperor  of  the  two  hundred  and 
twenty  big  and  little  islands  of  Japan,  —  all  together  about  the 
size  of  Dakota  Territory,  —  has  an  empress,  who  proposed  some 
months  ago  to  make  a  visit  to  Nikko  to  see  the  priests  and 
temples,  as  the  dutiful  wife  of  a  direct  descendant  of  Deity 
should  most  certainly  do.  In  order  that  her  carriage  wheels 
might  roll  smoothly,  a  mandate  went  forth  that  these  twenty-five 
miles  of  generally  poor  road  should  be  put  in  perfect  order. 
Hence  we  found  the  regular  road,  which  for  most  of  the  way  is 
lined  on  either  side  by  noble  overarching  forest-trees,  in  a  per- 
fect state  of  siege.  What  with  much  ditching  and  more  loose 
dirt,  piles  of  broken  rock  and  more  piles  of  sand  and  gravel,  the 
grand  old  avenue  between  the  tall  trees  the  priests  or  daimios 
had  wisely  planted  there  three  hundred  years  ago  was  a  total 
wreck ;  and  travel  was  compelled  to  take  itself  just  outside  the 
trees,  into  the  deep  mud  filled  with  the  spreading  roots.     The 


42  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

soil,  generally  damp,  was  now  aggravated  by  heavy  rains.  We 
do  not  so  much  mind  mud  or  roots  when  taken  separately, 
but  encountered  together,  in  almost  unlimited  quantities,  they 
are  rather  trying  ;  and  whether  we  go  in  a  two-horse  basha,  as  we 
are  sorry  to  say  we  did,  or  return  by  jinrikisha,  as  we  had  to, 
the  road  developed  more  humiliation  than  any  we  had  ever  tried. 
The  basha  (the  word  is  from  ba,  "  horse,"  and  s/ia,  "wheel  ")  is 
a  four-wheeled,  thoroughbraced,  fore  and  aft  vehicle,  with  thin 
canvas  top.  Ours  was  drawn  through  the  slush  and  constant 
rain  by  a  pair  of  native  ponies  of  the  pointed  gothic  sort,  much 
galled  and  over-whipped.  Nine  dollars  was  the  price,  —  not  of 
the  outfit,  that  were  extortion,  but  of  the  ride.  Starting  out,  it 
soon  came  to  pass  that  the  clap-trap  affair  would  not  carry  us 
and  our  baggage,  so  a  ''rikisha  and  two  coolies  were  employed 
at  two  dollars  more,  and  away  we  went.  Light-laden  as  we 
were,  the  team  was  sometimes  stalled ;  but  in  time  it  got  us 
there.  And  for  all  this  trouble  of  the  dreadful  road  we  have  to 
blame  the  queen. 

"Do  these  'rikisha  men  ever  swear?"  The  consul,  who 
evidently  considered  any  amount  of  Buddhistic  profanity  excus- 
able under  such  infliction,  was  disappointed  when  Matsuda, 
our  native  guide,  told  him  that  Japanese  never  swear.  They 
have  afflictions  and  many  faults,  but  they  have  not  yet  learned 
that  vile  habit  which,  we  grieve  to  say,  attaches  most  to  that 
religion  that  claims  to  be  the  best.  But  then  we  must  wait 
until  the  Christian  stove-pipe  and  delusive  carpet- tack  have  been 
introduced.  If  Buddhism  can  stand  those  demons  of  immor- 
ality, then  may  we  call  our  missionaries  home,  and  open  wide 
our  doors  and  homes  to  missions  from  Japan. 

But  the  road  to  Nikko  —  let  us  say  no  more  about  the  fifteen 
mortal  hours  of  rain  and  mud  and  cramps  and  untold  disgust. 
The  coolies  were  active,  —  full  of  chatter  and  jollity  all  the  way  ; 
the  tea-house  people  greeted  us  warmly,  bringing  pots  of  fresh 
hot  tea  and  plates  of  candied  rice-cakes ;  and  black-teethed 
wives  and  chattering  daughters  sat  around  and  watched  and 
laughed  and  brought  more,  chattering  merrily  the  while,  bidding 
us  welcome,  and  saying  the  good-byes  as  though  we  were  old 
friends  of  the  family. 

The  most  charming  feature  of  the  route  is  the  long  and  mag- 
nificent avenue  of  conifers,  — their  stately  tapering  trunks  reach- 


JAPAN-.  43 

ing  far  towards  the  sky,  and  stretching  all  the  way  along,  broken 
only  by  the  several  country  villages.  Three  hundred  years  of 
growth  have  given  them  great  beauty  and  high  commercial  value. 
None  of  these  trees  are  felled,  save  as  the  winds  uproot  them. 
Tree-planting  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  religion  of  Japan,  as 
two  must  be  planted  for  every  one  cut  down.  A  httle  of  this 
religious  sentiment  would  be  of  untold  value  to  our  United 
States. 

There  is  a  single  hotel  in  Nikko,  and  cheery,  soft-matted 
chambers  awaited  us,  with  dining-room  fronting  upon  the  sec- 
ond-story veranda,  which  fronts  the  oblong  neatly  kept  and  foun- 
tained  court.  We  dined  abundantly.  Mock-turtle  soup,  brook 
trout  fresh  from  the  rushing  mountain  streams,  fresh  roast 
chicken,  delicious  beef,  with  wheaten  bread  and  strawberry  jam, 
made  us  forget  the  toils  of  our  journey  and  prepared  us  for  a 
night  of  most  refreshing  slumber. 

These  Nikko  shrines  and  temples  I  find  it  almost  impossible 
for  me  to  describe ;  and  I  have  looked  through  several  books  in 
vain  for  some  paragraph  that  might  convey  to  other  minds  some 
adequate  idea  of  what  they  look  like.  They  are  siii  ge?ieris ; 
there  is  nothing  in  architecture  with  which  to  compare  them. 
But  it  may  be  safely  stated  that  in  richness  of  carved  wood, 
lacquer,  bronze,  solid  gold  mountings,  sacred  urns  and  lamps 
and  movable  appliances,  in  painted  screens,  rich  gilding,  and 
over-abundant  ornament,  they  well  claim  precedence  of  any  in 
the  world.  They  are  not  stately  like  Christian  cathedrals  ;  con- 
tain no  marbles  or  precious  stones ;  no  walls  of  stone  or  brick, 
no  towers,  spire,  or  minaret  enter  into  their  construction  ;  but 
outside  and  inside  they  have  a  most  deft  and  elaborate  system 
of  carving,  lacquer,  and  precious  metal  work. 

We  were  most  fortunate  in  being  able  to  see  these  gorgeous 
temples,  even  to  their  most  sacred  places.  Bearing  a  letter 
from  Chief-Justice  Miller,  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court,  to 
Yoshidu  Kyonari,  second  minister  of  the  home  office  here,  and 
formerly  Japanese  minister  at  Washington,  we  were  cordially  re- 
ceived and  provided  with  letters  to  the  governor  of  the  province 
of  Utsunomiya  and  the  priests  of  the  Nikko  temples.  The  gover- 
nor gave  us  his  kind  attention,  despatching  a  special  messenger 
ahead  to  make  all  preparations,  so  that  we  were  received  by  the 
Nikko  mayor,  who  tendered  us  the  freedom  of  the  city,  and 


44  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

announced  the  order  of  our  observation.  He  said  we  were  most 
timely  in  our  visit,  as  on  the  morrow  would  be  celebrated,  at  one 
of  the  principal  temples,  an  annual  festival  in  grand  procession 
and  ceremonial ;  and  that,  on  account  of  the  priests  being  in- 
volved in  this  great  feast,  it  would  be  better  to  attend  that  first 
and  visit  the  sacred  places  next  day. 

Next  morning  we  visited  the  great  red  lacquer  bridge  that  spans 
the  rushing  mountain  torrent  at  the  upper  end  of  the  pleasant 
little  temple  village.  From  massive  stone  abutments,  supported 
on  the  cantilever  plan  by  four  octagon  monolithic  shore  piers,  — 
two  at  each  shore,  —  springs  a  single  span  of  bright  red  lacquer 
work  eighty-four  feet  long  by  eighteen  feet  wide.  The  bridge 
was  built  in  1638,  for  the  special  use  of  the  shoguns,  or  tycoons. 
It  was  a  curious  revelation,  inasmuch  as  the  principle  involved 
seemed  to  be  identical  with  that  developed  in  the  new  canti- 
lever railroad  bridge  at  Niagara  Falls.  The  latter  is  of  iron,  but 
in  construction  only  an  amplification  of  this  one  :  but  this  was 
done  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  has  stood  the  cen- 
turies' seasons  with  only  slight  repairs.  So  light  and  airy  a 
work,  thrown  so  skilfully  and  yet  substantially  across  these 
dangerous  waters  so  many  years  ago,  and  by  a  people,  too,  whom 
we  are  pleased  to  relegate  to  pagan  gloom  and  ignorance,  is  a 
matter  full  of  interest.  We  copy  their  thoughts  and  even  patent 
them  as  inventions  of  our  own  ! 

Crossing  by  a  secular  bridge  close  by,  we  are  at  the  foot  of 
the  temple  hill,  up  which,  by  various  broad,  smooth  roads  or 
cut-stone  steps,  we  come  unto  the  holy  places,  — places  of  gor- 
geous temples  until  within  the  past  few  years  unprofaned  by 
foreign  feet.  Proceeding  up  the  country  road  and  along  the 
mountain  torrent,  we  come  to  the  assembled  Buddhas,  —  a  long 
row  of  seated  stone  images  of  the  great  son  of  heaven  ;  hundreds 
of  them  seated  against  tlie  bushy  bank,  moss-grown  with  age, 
peeping  forth  from  the  thick  foliage,  sitting  there  with  eyes 
downcast  and  features  full  of  deepest  calm  and  saintly  thought, 
—  sitting  there  through  all  the  ages,  these  gray  stone  effigies  of 
Buddha,  founder  of  a  religion  that  was  old  before  our  era,  and 
numbers  yet  four  hundred  million  converts ;  sitting  in  calm 
repose,  looking  not  upon  the  glories  of  this  world,  but  down  the 
long  deep-shaded  aisles  of  time  into  the  realm  of  the  unknown. 
Here  in  the  rural  stillness,  broken  only  by  the  foamy  mountain 


JAPAN.  45 

waters  rushing  through  the  narrow  granite  gorge,  among  the 
bright  wild-roses  and  amid  the  stooping  mountains,  is  found  the 
earliest  home  of  proselyting  Buddhists  on  Japan  shores. 

But  the  procession  forms  at  ten  o'clock ;  and  hastening  back 
to  the  temple  steps,  we  are  met  by  a  clean-shaved,  silken-robed 
priest,  who  bows  profoundly  as  we  exchange  introductory  greet- 
ings with  the  officials.  It  will  be  an  hour  yet  before  the  procession 
moves,  so  a  place  of  honor  is  accorded  us  on  the  high-priest's 
alcoved  balcony  by  the  high-walled  roadside.  But  before  taking 
it  we  are  conducted  to  a  grand  old  temple,  shrine,  and  museum, 
of  ultra-sacred  temple  wares.  Along  a  very  wide  and  cleanly  grav- 
elled way,  lined  in  the  middle  by  a  clean-cut  granite  path,  laid 
bias,  we  come  to  very  broad  and  easy  granite  steps  that  pass  by 
many  a  carved  stone  or  fine  bronze  lantern,  up  to  the  threshold 
of  the  sacred  house.  Put  off  your  shoes,  for  only  stockinged  feet 
can  enter  here.  The  shining  lacquered  floor  is  thickly  matted,  the 
mats  inwrought  with  gold.  Before  a  lighted  altar,  loaded  down 
with  vessels  of  chased  gold,  of  lacquer  yet  more  dear,  and  richest 
golden  bronze,  our  worthy  conductors  fall  prone  upon  their 
faces ;  nor  do  they  stir  till  we  have  gone  our  rounds,  defamed 
the  holy  places  by  touch  of  feet  and  hands,  gazed  upon  the  en- 
shrined 2;oiden  Buddha  seated  on  the  burnished  golden  lotus 
bloom,  felt  with  our  hands  the  golden  life-sized  storks,  the 
blooming  lotus  plants  in  pots  of  golden  bronze,  the  golden 
rice  plant,  screen  work  of  thick  and  heavy  mesh  in  solid  wires 
of  gold,  shrines  of  purest  metals,  costly  garments,  silken  sacred 
rolls  written  in  gilded  characters,  garments  of  officiating 
priests  heavy  with  golden  thread  and  surface  needle-work  in  silk 
and  silver  and  in  golden  threads,  portraying  various  churchly 
scenes.  About  the  altar,  within  the  most  sacred  place,  where 
but  a  few  years  since  not  even  the  Emperor  of  Japan  might  go, 
we  tread  and  peer  about ;  around  the  carved  and  gilded  cloisters, 
into  the  holy  places,  almost  guiltily  we  went,  feeling  after  all  that 
we  had  no  right  to  be  there,  no  right  to  inflict  ourselves  upon 
their  sanctities.  A  wonderful  place  !  Without  and  within  of  per- 
fect finish,  bright  with  strange  jewelled  decorations  and  carved 
projections  —  every  point,  from  stone  sill  to  the  upper  cornice, 
crowded  with  carving,  lacquered  work,  and  works  of  gold  and 
bronze.  Wonderful  in  their  stalwart  fierceness  are  the  tiger- 
dragons,  the  devil-giants,  the  myriad  fearful  forms  that  guard 


46  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  doors  and  gates,  whose  crystal  eyes  glare  down  on  the  in- 
truder as  if  to  wither  him  on  the  spot ;  whose  every  tooth  and 
fang  is  clear  and  bright,  springing  from  fiery  jaws  as  if  to  crush 
and  swallow  us  alive.  Up  and  down  the  broad  wrought  granite 
steps,  along  broad  avenues  of  stately  trees  and  terraces,  we  come 
back  to  the  sacred  way  and  to  the  balcony  where  we  are  to  wit- 
ness the  gi-eat  festival,  —  the  massing  of  ancient  temple  warriors 
and  saints,  dragons  and  banners,  and  the  great  golden  shrine  or 
ark  in  which  abides  the  earthly  spirit  of  the  Eternal  God. 

There  are  church  festivals  everywhere.  Religious  sects  abuse 
each  other,  and  condemn  each  other's  adherents  to  all  manner 
of  pain  and  torture  ;  but  all  agree  that  there  must  be  festivals. 
These  outward  demonstrations  —  processions,  picnics,  sociables, 
and  Sunday-schools  —  are  absolutely  necessary  to  sectarian  ex- 
istence, far  more  so  than  the  sermon  prepared  for  the  dull  ears 
of  the  older  people,  who,  while  they  hear  it  or  go  peacefully  to 
sleep  under  it,  often  do  very  much  of  their  own  thinking.  But 
the  show-pieces  of  the  church  catch  the  eye  and  ear  of  all, 
and  stamp  upon  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  young  impressions 
that  time  or  argument  can  never  efface. 

Though  this  is  not  a  Christian  country,  it  has  a  religion,  priests, 
places  and  objects  of  worship,  festivals,  and  processions  ;  they 
pray  orally,  on  paper,  and  by  wheels  ;  they  believe  in  the  efficacy 
of  prayer  and  miracle  cures  ;  they  give  liberally  of  their  money 
to  build  churches  and  shrines ;  and  I  have  heard  that  a  select 
band  of  Buddhist  priests  is  now  being  thoroughly  educated  in 
the  English  tongue,  as  preliminary  to  a  substantial  missionary 
movement  on  America  and  Europe.  This  may  strike  one  as 
rather  queer ;  but  when  we  reflect  that  Mormon  missionaries 
have  built  up  their  sect  out  of  Christian  material,  and  are  con- 
stantly adding  more  recruits  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  what  may 
we  not  expect  of  this  Buddhistic  movement? 

But  we  were  going  to  the  procession  and  festival.  Passing 
beneath  a  lofty  gateway  flanked  by  numerous  banners  of  strange 
device,  we  enter  the  grounds  of  the  high-priest.  The  Bud- 
dhistic priest,  like  his  Catholic  brother,  does  not  marry ;  but  this 
does  not  prevent  him  from  having  an  elegant  house  and  com- 
fortable surroundings,  for  he  must  eat  and  entertain.  We  are 
conducted  to  the  entrance,  where  all  shoes  are  laid  aside,  greet- 


JAPAN.  47 

ings  are  made,  and  cards  exchanged,  after  which  we  are  shown 
through  the  house  to  an  open-fronted  room,  — a  spacious  alcove 
overlooking  the  broad  approach  to  the  temple,  some  twenty 
feet  below.  This  fine  apartment,  divided  into  three  portions  by 
low  screens,  accommodates  our  party,  the  dignitaries  of  state, 
and  the  members  of  the  French  ambassador's  family.  For  our 
refreshment,  tea  and  confections  are  placed  at  our  disposal  on 
small  lacquered  tables  scarce  twelve  inches  high. 

The  sacred  way  upon  which  we  look  is  a  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  wide,  carefully  smoothed  and  guttered  with  dressed  stone. 
The  embankment  walls  on  either  side  are  eight  feet  high,  of 
carefully  faced  and  closely  jointed  stones  of  odd  sizes,  laid 
without  mortar.  Over  beyond  are  the  spacious  grounds  of 
the  priests  of  another  temple  and  shrine  that  we  had  just  been 
shown.  The  temple  drum  —  a  large  barrel-shaped  affair — is 
loudly  tapped,  and  up  past  our  point  of  observation  rush  a  group 
of  lads,  bearing  freshly  broken  boughs,  with  which,  amid  much 
shouting,  they  lash  the  road.  Laughing  in  high  glee  the  well- 
dressed  children  follow,  gathering  the  broken  twigs  and  scattered 
leaves.  This  is  done  with  great  ringing  of  bells  and  beating  of 
the  temple  drum,  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  the  road  and  driv- 
ing off  such  evil  spirits  as  might  be  lurking  around  to  interfere 
with  the  holy  train  about  to  pass  that  way.  After  such  precau- 
tions, no  devils  dare  come  to  trip  the  feet  of  pious  worshippers. 
It  is  a  queer  proceeding,  to  our  barbarian  minds ;  yet  you  may 
have  read  how  Christian  people  of  by-gone  days  —  and  even 
now  in  some  parts  of  the  world  —  made  use  of  bells,  trumpets, 
and  other  noisy  things,  to  exorcise  the  Devil  or  his  many  imps, 
who  are  supposed  to  take  fiendish  pleasure  in  annoying  the  chil- 
dren of  light ;  and  how  the  sweet-toned  Sabbath  bells,  now  rung 
or  tolled  to  call  us  forth  to  church,  or  to  announce  a  death  or 
burial,  were  at  first  used  to  warn  away  the  prowling  imps  of 
Satan. 

The  wide  and  high-walled  sacred  way  has  become  crowded. 
The  aged  and  the  young,  of  all  sorts  and  conditions,  in  holiday 
attire,  are  out  to  see  the  show.  It  is  a  curious  crowd  to  look 
upon,  —  full  of  animation,  and  well  warmed  with  bright  and 
pleasing  bits  of  color.  Not  a  hat  or  bonnet  is  to  be  seen.  The 
music  from  the  temple  terrace  announces  the  moving  of  the 
procession.     In  slow  and  solemn  measure  the  priests  and  people 


48  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

move  down  the  temple  court,  and  underneath  the  great  gray 
torii,  or  granite  gateway,  nearer  and  nearer,  to  the  beating  ol  the 
monstrous  temple  drum.  As  the  cortege  approaches  our  out- 
look, section  after  section  halts  before  us  as  if  to  be  reviewed. 
Each  detachment  presents  some  new  and  pleasing  feature.  All 
are  dressed  in  costumes  of  two  hundred  years  ago,  —  costumes 
that  are  carefully  preserved  within  the  temple  godowns  for  such 
occasions.  The  procession  is  not  so  much  to  represent  the 
present  as  the  past,  when  the  great  Shoguns  ruled.  First  comes 
a  company  of  much-sworded  infantry,  followed  by  men  in  rare 
old  netted  mail  and  gilded  armor,  others  with  bright  lances,  and 
more  with  flaunting  banners.  There  also  comes  the  monstrous 
tiger,  with  glaring  eyes  and  much  display  of  hungry  teeth,  —  a 
great  stuffed  effigy,  borne  upon  the  unseen  heads  and  shoulders  of 
six  men ;  then  come  musicians  playing  strange  tunes  on  ancient 
instruments  ;  priests  mounted  on  horses  richly  caparisoned  in 
gilt  and  heavy  silken  trappings,  attended  each  by  large  retinues 
on  foot ;  then  men  who  bear  aloft  on  heavy  framework  more 
gilded  banners  of  curious  design  ;  young  people  in  queer-shaped 
tunics  ;  a  troop  of  saintly  women  dressed  in  richly  woven  fab- 
rics ;  more  horses,  men,  and  still  more  gilded  banners  :  and 
now,  amid  the  shouting  crowd,  upon  a  heavy  framework  borne 
upon  the  shoulders  of  seventy  sturdy  men,  comes  the  massive 
golden  shrine  of  the  god  of  the  occasion,  who  scatters  coin  upon 
the  road,  for  which  the  children  scramble.  The  great  and  costly 
shrine  holding  the  spirit  of  the  deity  stands  still  before  us.  The 
music  increases ;  the  people  shout  and  bow  their  heads  ;  the 
gorgeous  shrine  gleams  in  the  sunlight,  and  moves  on  again 
toward  the  lower  temple,  where  sacred  ceremonies  of  offerings 
and  presentations  are  to  be  held. 

Of  course  we  leave  our  seats,  resume  our  shoes,  and  follow 
on.  The  procession  enters  another  large  court,  where  the 
shrine  of  the  god  finds  rest  in  a  special  temple,  whose  broad 
hinged  doors  are  swung  upwards,  fronting  another  edifice  some 
thirty  feet  away,  the  sides  of  which  are  also  opened  wide.  Now 
come  prayers  and  offerings.  Richly  robed  priests  from  an 
inner  apartment  pass  forth  seventy  sacred  vessels,  each  laden 
with  offerings  of  carefully  prepared  food.  Over  their  mouths  are 
bands  of  paper  inscribed  with  a  prayer,  worn  that  human  breath 
may  not  be  breathed  upon  the  holy  offerings.     The  sacred  ves- 


JAPAN,  49 

sels  are  of  richest  workmanship,  in  chased  gold,  golden  lacquer, 
inlaid  bronze,  —  each  dish  a  costly  treasure ;  and  these  are 
passed  one  by  one  unto  the  high-priests,  who  bear  them  on  with 
formal  step,  placing  them  one  by  one,  with  low  obeisance,  upon 
the  long  lacquer  table  in  front  of  the  deity.  This  ceremony 
occupies  a  full  half-hour.  The  offering  is  made  amid  a  con- 
stant flow  of  plaintive  music  from  the  priestly  band ;  the  chief 
high-priest,  in  silken  robes,  kneels  prone  upon  the  richly 
woven  mat,  fronting  the  offerings  and  the  god,  and  offers  suppli- 
cations ;  the  holy  women  perform  a  posture  dance  ;  the  priests 
assemble  two  by  two  upon  the  square  stone  pavement  between 
the  offerings  and  the  holy  shrine,  and,  with  much  formal  postur- 
ing in  the  open  air,  complete  the  presentation  ceremonial. 

Meantime  many  servants  move  among  the  general  throng, 
handing  to  each  a  neat  package  of  food,  —  colored  rice-cake 
and  confections,  —  that  all  the  multitude  of  worshippers  may 
go  away  well  fed.  We  hoped  to  be  remembered  in  this  churchly 
picnic ;  but  somehow,  though  we  worshipped  with  the  rest  in 
rapt  attention,  and  were  sure  we  were  quite  as  hungry  as  the 
others,  we  got  no  colored  rice-cake.  This  was  the  only  mistake 
we  noticed  in  the  whole  performance.  The  ceremony  over,  the 
god  no  doubt  well  pleased  with  the  devotions  and  liberal  offer- 
ings of  his  dutiful  people,  the  shrine  was  lifted  up  again  by  the 
many  stalwart  men  and  borne  back  in  triumph  to  the  other 
temple.  The  crowd  dispersed,  the  many  costumes  and  para- 
phernalia were  returned  to  the  sacristy,  and  the  great  annual 
feast  we  were  so  fortunate  as  to  witness  was  duly  finished.  In 
all  respects  it  was  orderly,  ample,  and  impressive.  While  we 
could  understand  but  faintly  its  many  aspects  and  meanings,  yet 
surely  the  devotees  were  to  all  appearance  earnest,  prayerful, 
and  devoted. 

Is  this  idolatry?  So  we  call  it.  But  are  pagans  the  only 
ones  who  bow  to  shrines  and  pray  and  posture  before  efifigies? 

"Why  do  your  people  bow  to  these  wooden  things?"  the 
duke  asked  of  Matsuda,  our  native  guide,  —  a  sometime  protege, 
he  says,  of  Dr.  Morgan  Dix. 

"Why  do  Christians  kneel  before  crucifix  and  crosses?  "  was 
the  apt  rejoinder. 

Matsuda  says  the  Doctor  wanted  him  to  become  a  Christian. 
He  was  willing  to  be  a  Christian.     But  he  was  Shin-to  man 

4 


50  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

too,  and  Buddha  man  too.  "  Shin-to  religion  good,  Buddha  re- 
ligion good.  Christian  religion  good ;  all  three  religions  good  if 
men  be  good."  Matsuda  is  rather  polytheistic ;  but  he  is  a 
good  cook,  a  good  guide,  dresses  like  a  white  man,  has  a  young 
wife  and  pretty  baby,  and  so  we  don't  try  to  disturb  his  peaceful 
mental  poise. 

The  next  day  after  the  procession,  as  arranged  by  one  of  the 
Mikado's  ministers  and  the  Mayor  of  Nikko,  we  set  forth  early, 
and  in  their  company,  to  inspect  the  great  temples  and  shrines 
not  yet  seen.  I  really  cannot  tell  of  the  sanctuary  glories  that 
were  opened  up  to  us  that  morning.  They  far  exceed  my  pow- 
ers of  description.  We  stood  and  gazed  and  wondered,  — 
dazed,  like  one  in  fairy  dreamland.  Gate  after  gate,  terrace 
above  terrace,  stair  succeeding  stair,  shrine,  temple,  and  pagoda, 
fountains  and  rushing  waters,  stone  and  bronze  lanterns,  bur- 
nished gold  work  without  and  within,  gorgeous  gold  bronze  vases, 
plates  and  trimmings,  costliest  lacquered  work  and  most  deftly 
wrought  ornaments  and  vessels  were  on  either  hand,  —  whole 
buildings  one  entire  mass  of  carving  and  of  precious  metals 
inlaid  in  wood,  from  the  stone  foundation  to  the  gilded  gable 
griffin,  perfect  without  as  within.  Whether  we  enter  and  visit 
the  inmost  shrines  rarely  trod  by  other  than  the  high-priest's 
feet,  or  stand  by  the  high-priest's  side,  as,  with  reverence  most 
profound,  he  unlocks  and  discloses  to  our  profane  eyes  the  cen- 
tral golden  Buddha,  upon  whose  calm  and  impressive  face  not 
even  common  priests  have  ever  looked ;  whether  we  climb  the 
several  hundred  broad  and  neat  hewn  steps  through  massive 
doors  of  old-time  bronze,  or  view  the  golden  storks,  the  golden 
potted  rice,  and  the  lotus  plants ;  whether  we  sit  with  the  wor- 
shipping magnates  of  the  state  and  church  before  the  ever- 
lighted  golden  lamps,  or  smell  the  never-fading  incense,  —  yet 
are  we  entranced  in  fairy  land,  among  the  glint  and  glamour  of 
a  state  I  know  not  of  and  cannot  at  all  describe. 

For  several  hours  we  wandered  about  among  those  jewel 
buildings,  —  among  vast  walls  of  finely  wrought  unmortared 
stone,  and  monolithic  monuments,  and  unique  bronze ;  amid 
swift-running  mountain  water  sluices,  and  monstrous  monolithic 
granite  water-tanks,  gazing  at  huge  wrought  lanterns,  the  great 
revolving  Bible  library,  carven  pillars,  red  pagodas,  curious 
dragon  heads ;  until,  becoming  more  and  more  bewildered  at 


japan:  5 1 

the  magic  scene,  we  bowed  adieus,  expressed  our  hearty  thanks, 
and  came  away. 

Do  you  like  figures,  — •  to  know  the  cost  of  things  ?  Well,  then, 
some  curious  calculator  has  been  figuring  upon  the  cost  of  these 
great  structures,  stone,  wood,  and  metal  work,  in  this  little  en- 
closure of  sacred  Buddha  worship ;  and  even  at  the  low  price  of 
labor  here  when  the  work  was  done,  he  makes  the  amount  some 
fifteen  millions  of  dollars.  If  it  all  were  made  to-day,  the  cost 
would  be  double  that  amount.  And  all  this  in  delightful  little 
Nikko,  —  gem  of  mountain  temples,  yet  but  a  mere  speck  in 
the  temple  aggregation  of  this  crooked  little  island  so  lately 
opened  up  to  foreign  gaze. 


52  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JAPAN. 

A  Jinrikisha  Ride  to  Kof u.  —  A  Bit  of  Earthquake  Experience.  —  The 
Holy  Mountain  of  Fuji.  — Among  the  Silk-Workers. — A  Boat-Ride 
down  the  Rapids.  —  A  Japanese  Pleasure  Resort.  —  No  Cattle  on  a 
Thousand  Hills.  — A  Race  of  Vegetarians. 

AFTER  travelling  forty-two  miles  over  a  sticky  road  three 
hours  in  the  morning,  and  an  afternoon  pull  over  Sasago 
Pass,  3,500  feet  high,  we  might  be  excused  for  going  early 
to  our  silken  couch.  Silken  couches  are  what  they  have  for 
distinguished  guests  at  the  tea-houses  all  the  way  from  Hioji  to 
Kofu,  —  one  of  the  best-known  silk-growing  regions  in  all 
Japan.  Upon  the  neatly  matted  guest-room  floor  they  throw  a 
thinnish  mattress  stuffed  with  raw  cotton,  with  top  of  quilted  silk, 
on  which  we  should  sleep  were  it  not  that  we  carry  our  own 
white  sheets.  Over  the  top  sheet  they  throw  a  silken  coverlet 
thickly  padded  and  neatly  quilted.  It  is  a  quilt,  and  yet  not  a 
quilt ;  for  it  has  short  and  flowing  sleeves  and  velvet  collar,  and 
when  worn  as  a  dressing-gown  it  really  trails  the  floor  and  in- 
creases one's  circumference  from  forty-five  to  five-and-seventy 
inches  !  That  is  the  sort  of  thing  all  stylish  landladies  in  this 
country  bring  out  for  a  tourist's  coverlet ;  and  aside  from  the 
mere  gorgeousness  of  the  outfit,  it  is  rather  comfortable,  not  to 
say  impressive,  and  the  fashion  here  withal. 

As  stated,  we  retired  early  and  slept  rather  late  for  men  of 
enterprise.  Crawling  from  beneath  our  silken  robes  at  six 
o'clock,  I  sallied  forth  along  the  garden  corridor  to  snifi"  the 
open  air  and  look  for  sunrise.  Standing  there  in  thin  pyjamas, 
all  of  a  sudden  something  seemed  to  give  way  beneath  my 
naked  feet,  and  to  support  myself  I  reached  for  a  wooden  col- 
umn. Then  the  floor  began  to  lift  and  every  joint  of  the 
house's  frame  and  floor  to  squeal  and  squeak  as  if  in  sudden 
pain ;  and  as  it  rocked  about,  the  people  of  the  house,  servants 


JAPAN.  53 

and  guests,  were  heard  jumping  from  their  rooms, —  the  old 
folks  calling,  young  ones  screaming,  all  hands  running  for  the 
street.  AMiile  the  hubbub  was  subsiding  and  things  seemed  in- 
clined to  take  a  rest,  our  guide  rushed  in  to  say,  "  The  earth- 
quake finish,  sir;  no  danger  now,  sir;  danger  all  ov^er  !  " 

In  an  hour  of  madness,  out  upon  the  ocean,  we  had  expressed 
the  foolish  hope  that  our  ship  might  meet  a  typhoon.  Of 
course  we  did  n't  mean  it ;  but  the  typhoon  came  and  bounced 
us  about  for  many  a  dubious  hour.  Later  on,  as  some  one 
spoke  of  the  lively  earthquakes  Japan  is  wont  to  have  in  winter 
months,  we  hoped  aloud  that  we  might  have  an  earthquake 
shock  to  put  upon  our  string  of  odd  experiences.  But  as  the 
winter  months  were  yet  a  good  way  off,  and  we  should  be  in 
India  ere  they  came,  the  wish  seemed  to  be  an  idle  one.  How- 
ever, the  spirits  of  the  lower  world  must  have  heard  it,  for  the 
earthquake  came.  It  is  a  queer  sensation.  The  ground  does  n't 
lift  more  than  an  inch  or  two,  but  the  motion  is  so  unusual 
that  one  does  n't  relish  it.  Sometimes  earthquakes  bring  sad 
disaster  here,  causing  great  loss  of  life ;  not  that  the  earth 
opens  wide  and  swallows  people  up,  but  it  throws  down  houses, 
and  they  take  fire  from  burning  lamps  and  make  a  general 
wreck.  Some  twenty  years  ago,  in  the  Oxaka  quarter  of  Tokio, 
an  earthquake  shook  down  some  hundreds  of  houses  one  dark 
night,  causing  the  death,  mostly  by  fire,  of  twenty  thousand 
people.  Hence,  when  the  earth  begins  to  quake,  the  people 
rush  to  the  streets  for  safety.  Since  the  introduction  of  kero- 
sene lamps  and  oil,  fires  arising  from  earthquakes  have  very 
much  increased  in  number. 

As  stated,  we  are  in  Kofu.  We  came  all  the  way  from  Tokio 
—  eighty-five  miles  —  by  jinrikisha.  Our  retinue  is  four  ''riki- 
shas,  —  two  for  ourselves,  one  for  our  guide,  and  another  for 
our  baggage  and  provisions.  For  each  carriage  there  are  two 
brawny  coolies,  selected  for  their  strength  and  endurance,  — 
nine  servants  in  all,  and  four  extra  ones  to  help  us  over  the  two 
high  steep  passes  of  Kobotoki  and  Sasago,  usually  made  on 
kagos,  borne  on  men's  shoulders.  We  intended  to  make  the 
distance  in  two  and  a  half  days,  and  very  nearly  did  so  ;  indeed, 
we  might  have  made  it  in  less,  but  for  a  rainstorm  that  took  place 
the  second  day,  causing  the  first  pass  to  be  slow  and  difficult. 
These  coolie  men  are  powerful  fellows,  who,  along  a  smooth, 


54  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

hard  road,  will  take  you  fifty  miles  in  twelve  hours.  Starting  on 
the  trip,  they  were  fairly  clad,  —  cotton  breeches  reaching  half 
way  to  the  knee,  a  cotton  spencer,  open  in  front,  lapping  the 
breeches  at  the  hips,  a  broad,  flat  bamboo  hat  three  feet  across 
to  serve  as  protection  from  the  sun  and  rain,  straw  sandals  on 
their  feet,  and  a  tight  blue  cotton  band  about  their  heads.  But 
as  we  got  away  from  the  city  and  reached  the  less  exacting 
country  regions,  their  clothes  began  to  drop,  —  first  hats,  then 
jackets,  lastly  breeches,  till  our  swarthy  coolies.  Mercury-like 
and  jubilant,  went  racing  over  country  roads  and  through  the 
village  streets  with  scarcely  clothes  enough  on  them  to  wad  a 
gun.  Though  proud  of  their  speed,  we  felt  awfully  scandalized, 
and  expected  to  see  the  country  folk  run  in  and  shut  their 
doors ;  but  observing  they  cared  nothing  for  it,  we  concluded 
not  to  enter  any  protest,  especially  as  we  noticed  many  more  in 
the  same  state  of  open-air  undress.  These  coolie  fellows  know 
no  other  kind  of  work  than  this.  They  eat  rice  and  fish  six  or 
eight  times  a  day,  are  tough  as  whip-cord,  and,  put  to  their 
best,  with  large  pay,  will  make  ninety  miles  in  six-and-twenty 
hours,  including  stoppages.  The  second  day  of  our  journey 
they  wore  out  six  pairs  each  of  straw  sandals,  so  rough  and 
stony  was  the  mountain  road ;  yet  not  a  fretful  word  or  unwill- 
ing look  or  gesture  escaped  them.  In  the  midst  of  the  most 
trying  difficulties  they  are  cheerful  and  merry,  chatting  away, 
and  giving  each  other  a  kindly  lift ;  they  seem  never  off  their 
good  behavior,  and  are  always  ready  to  start  or  stop  at  the  word. 
Falling  and  getting  bruised  upon  the  sharp  stones  is  all  the 
same  as  being  on  a  smooth  road,  as  far  as  any  manifestation  is 
noticed. 

"  Why  don't  these  fellows  swear  like  Christian  folks  when 
they  get  hurt?  "  we  foolishly  ask  our  guide. 

"  Buddhist  not  swear,  sir,  —  Buddhist  not  like  Christian  to 
swear,  sir,"  was  his  sensible  answer ;  for,  with  all  their  pagan 
practices,  they  have  not  to  answer  for  that  shameful  habit  which 
seems  to  attach  mostly  to  the  Latin  race,  —  the  habit  of 
profanity. 

The  way  we  came  is  full  of  picturesque  interest.  Mounting 
the  first  pass,  the  grand  old  Holy  Mountain  of  Fuji  bursts  glo- 
riously into  view.  Fuji  is  a  long  extinct  volcano,  15,700  feet 
above  the  sea,  rising  grandly  far  above  the  verdure-clad  envi- 


JAPAN.  55 

ronment  of  mountain  steeps  that  form  its  noble  foot-hills.  All 
day  long,  and  all  the  next,  is  Fuji  boldly  pictured,  —  an  ever- 
present  type  of  mountain  grandeur.  We  dechned  to  undertake 
its  tiresome  ascent,  counting  it  quite  as  well,  and  far  more  easy, 
to  greet  the  rising  sun  and  tell  our  beads  on  less  exalted  ground. 
To  visit  shrine-topped  Fuji,  however,  either  as  toiling  tourist 
or  pious  pilgrim,  is  said  to  be  a  special  duty.  It  is  really  very 
hard  work,  as  it  can  only  be  done  on  foot,  and  takes  three 
days. 

The  way  to  Kofu  is  lined  with  mulberry-trees  and  silk  works. 
From  nearly  every  wayside  home  or  village  house  comes  the 
click-clack  of  the  busy  loom.  Here  nimble  fingers  of  mothers 
and  daughters  unwind  the  soft  cocoons,  prepare  the  warp  and 
woof,  and  weave  the  long,  bright,  silken  webs.  The  fabrics  are 
varied  in  dye,  design,  and  texture ;  some  are  coarse,  some  me- 
dium, others  soft  and  delicately  fine  and  tasteful.  Every  stage  of 
silk  manipulation  is  managed  here  at  home,  from  raising  the 
cocoons  to  spinning,  dyeing,  and  weaving.  The  people  also 
raise  their  own  cotton  and  make  their  own  cotton  goods.  Wool 
and  woollens  are  rather  rare,  as  these  people  keep  no  sheep. 
To  the  extent  of  their  apparel,  no  people  are  better  dressed. 
Rags  and  squalor  you  will  not  see.  At  a  country  village  on  our 
way,  a  festival  was  being  held  to  celebrate  the  opening  of  a  fine 
new  bridge  across  the  furious  mountain  stream  and  gorge. 
From  all  about,  the  people  came  along  the  road  in  holiday 
attire  ;  and  scarce  a  person  could  we  see  —  from  bright-eyed 
little  babies  carefully  pocketed  upon  parental  backs,  to  children 
afoot,  and  adults  of  both  sexes  —  but  was  dressed  in  silken 
goods,  varied  in  color,  but  otherwise  of  nearly  uniform  style,  the 
stockings  all  of  white,  protected  by  straw  or  plain  wooden  clogs. 
Not  a  head  was  covered  among  the  women,  and  only  now  and 
then  a  man  wore  a  light  braided  hat  of  straw.  Every  head  was 
jetty  black  and  oiled,  —  the  women's  hair  tricked  out  with  pretty 
pins  and  combs.  Some  children  wore  very  bright,  fantastic 
'hues,  carefully  arranged  ;  while  among  the  women,  young  and 
old,  the  obi,  or  long  and  broad  silken  band  worn  about  the  waist 
and  arranged  in  a  broad  square  knot  behind,  was  the  chief  at- 
traction of  the  costume,  gayly  lighting  up  the  closely  packed 
crowd.  No  jewelry  is  worn  and  no  leather  foot-gear ;  the  ears, 
nose,  breast,  and  fingers  are  free  from  rings  and  trinkets  so  com- 


56  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

mon  among  other  peoples.  They  wear  no  mitts  or  gloves,  and 
their  small  and  shapely  hands  and  plump  fore-arms  are  quite 
exposed.  Some  bright  young  belles  strive  to  improve  nature  with 
rouge  upon  their  lips  and  white  enamel  upon  their  faces  and 
necks ;  but  this  is  exceptional,  and .  is  affected  chiefly  by  the 
gasJm  —  dancing  girls.  Taken  as  a  whole,  a  more  neatly,  cleanly, 
decently  apparelled  crowd  is  rare.  Curious  to  see  strangers 
from  abroad,  who  rarely  pass  that  way,  they  crowd  around,  full 
of  keen-eyed  wonder,  modest  and  respectful;  and  if  you  jest 
with  the  children,  they  all  seem  ready  for  by-play  sport,  laugh- 
ing and  dodging,  full  of  merry  glee.  But  pat  a  baby  nestling  on 
its  mother's  back,  and  call  it  pretty,  and  its  proud  parent  beams 
her  thanks  and  sweetest  smiles.  Be  so  impolite  as  to  ask  a 
neatly  dressed  damsel  what  her  age  may  be,  and,  covering  her 
face  with  both  hands,  she  rushes  away  screaming  with  merry 
laughter,  while  the  men  look  mildly  on,  chatting  with  eacli 
other. 

Kofu  is  a  city  of  20,000  people  and  many  stores  and  shops. 
Here  are  several  fine  modern-looking  public  buildings,  a  normal 
school,  an  experimental  garden  in  the  queer  old  walled  castle 
grounds,  where  apples,  pears,  grapes,  peaches,  and  other  fruits 
imported  from  the  States  are  being  tried  and  trained.  Through 
these  grounds  and  the  wine  house  we  were  kindly  shown,  tast- 
ing the  various  fruits  and  wines.  The  Catawba  grape  was  very 
luscious  ;  the  winter  apples  were  fair,  but  the  trees  seemed  much 
assailed  by  moths.  Cherries  had  been  abundant,  as  also 
peaches.  Pear-trees  seemed  to  thrive,  but  were  too  thickly 
planted.  The  wines  were  only  moderately  good,  but  the  peo- 
ple are  just  learning  how  to  make  them.  At  the  silk  works 
some  two  hundred  girls  were  reeling  off  cocoons,  —  preparing 
silk  in  skeins  for  exportation,  largely  to  the  States.  These  and 
other  industries  are  springing  up  at  Kofu,  a  place  walled  in 
on  every  side  by  high,  softly  verdured  mountain  steeps,  which 
stand  aside  only  that  the  Fuji-gawa  may  bring  its  silver  waters  in 
and  pass  them  out  again.  Most  of  the  incoming  commerce  at 
this  thrifty  place  must  come  from  Tokio  by  road,  through  two 
narrow  passes  over  which  no  laden  cart  can  go  ;  all  must  be 
moved  on  pack  horses,  a  full  six  days'  tramp  from  market. 
Leaving  Kofu,  much  freight  goes  down  the  rapid  river,  up  which 
the  boats,  lightly  laden,  are   wearily  pulled  again  by  tracking 


JAPAN.  57 

along  the  pathless  shore  or  wading  the  shallow  waters.  With  all 
these  drawbacks,  and  shut  out  from  the  world,  Kofu  is  a  very 
bright  and  clean  and  thrifty  city,  with  well-kept  streets  and 
excellent  improvements.  A  city  it  has  been  for  full  two  thou- 
sand years  or  more,  with  a  people  proud  of  their  good  fortune 
and  their  happy  seclusion. 

"  Why  not  have  a  narrow-gauge  railroad  to  Tokio?"  we  asked 
Matsyoro  Otto,  who  showed  us  through  his  wine  house.  "  Rail- 
road not  good  for  Kofu,"  was  all  he  had  to  say  about  it.  Sev- 
eral thousand  people  in  this  mountain-walled  city  gain  their 
living  by  freighting,  by  boat  and  pack  horses,  by  bullock  cart  and 
kago  ;  and  to  deprive  them  of  this  would  be  counted  as  disaster. 

The  boats  which  ply  this  rapid  river  are  about  thirty  feet  long 
and  five  feet  beam,  very  slightly  built,  the  better  to  stand  the 
action  of  the  stream.  Each  is  manned  by  four  boatmen, —  one 
at  each  end  and  two  in  the  waist.  The  bottoms  are  so  thin  and 
supple  that  the  action  of  the  rushing  wave  underneath  causes 
them  to  rise  and  fall  with  some  two  or  three  inches  of  vibration. 
Long  bamboo  poles  are  laid  on  the  bottom,  and  covered  with 
coarse  matting  to  stand  or  sit  upon.  Indeed,  with  so  very 
slight  a  board  between  us  and  the  angry  current  of  the  many 
rapids,  it  seems  like  something  reckless  to  make  the  trip  ;  but 
boats  that  men  and  goods  have  been  carried  in  for  untold  time 
may  be  safely  trusted ;  so  away  we  go,  our  eight  strong  coolies 
squatting  about  us,  our  vehicles  and  baggage  in  a  second  boat. 
For  one  we  pay  eight  dollars ;  for  another,  equally  large  and 
well  manned,  only  two. 

The  stream  for  forty  miles  is  walled  in  by  the  high,  steep, 
green-clad  mountains,  along  which  none  may  ride,  but  which 
have  kindly  parted  just  enough  to  let  ovcc  gawa  pass,  and  now 
and  then  afford  a  plat  for  the  hardy  boatmen's  low  thatched 
dwellings.  All  day  long  we  pass  the  brawling  rushing  rapids, 
shaken  up  and  sprayed  by  overleaping  white-caps,  until  the  sport 
becomes  monotonous.  Contenting  ourselves  with  watching  the 
ever-changing  panoramic  mountain  views,  the  rocky  rifts  and 
curious  stone  formations  brought  forth  by  volcanic  fires  and 
forces  in  the  long-gone  ages,  we  while  away  the  hours.  The 
scenery  is  soft  and  picturesque,  but  even  with  its  changing 
lights  and  shades  one  soon  feels  tired  and  longs  to  see  a  stretch 
of  level  land. 


58  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

To  sleep  beside  the  mountain  of  Fuji,  and  see  it  in  the  glori- 
ous morning  sunlight,  so  near  and  yet  so  far,  was  to  us  a  great 
temptation  to  mount  its  back  and  brow ;  but  considering  the 
weary  way  before  us,  we  took  seats  behind  our  finely  tattooed 
coolies  and  swiftly  rolled  away  to  the  grand  old  Atami  Pass  by  a 
new  road  that  lifts  us  up  several  thousand  feet,  through  fields 
and  groves  and  mountain  moors,  and  lets  us  down  again,  by 
countless  zigzags,  into  the  quiet  little  seaside  and  hot  springs 
resort,  the  village  of  Atami,  where  the  ocean  view  and  near-by 
island  gem  and  cosey-roomed  hotel  were  very  welcome.  A 
really  lovely  place  is  this  close-cooped  Atami,  a  favorite  resort 
of  the  JMikado ;  and  here  we  could  have  stayed  and  enjoyed 
ourselves  for  a  whole  week ;  but  the  time-card  pushed  us  on 
to  Miya-no-shita,  where,  snuggled  in  among  the  loveliest  and 
the  steepest  hills,  amid  the  hot  springs,  bright  cascades,  and 
wildly  rushing  silver-threaded  streams,  we  halted  to  rest  and 
think  and  write  in  these  early  October  days. 

Up  here  among  these  everlasting  hills  is  a  little  village,  —  in 
fact,  there  are  many  little  villages ;  and  here  is  a  fine  hotel, 
where,  for  the  first  time  in  a  week's  tramp,  we  sleep  upon  a 
proper  bed,  eat  at  table  d'hote,  and  dress  before  a  looking-glass. 
It  really  seems  like  getting  home  again  to  find  so  many  luxuries 
together.  The  Hotel  Fujiya  is  on  a  mixed  plan, —  native  or  for- 
eign, any  way  you  like ;  you  may  sleep  on  a  mat  or  in  a  bed, 
eat  with  chopsticks  or  a  silver  fork,  lounge  on  a  rattan  sofa, 
bathe  in  spring  waters  hot  or  cold,  take  a  native  shampoo  or 
have  a  wash-stand,  combs,  and  towels  ;  but  you  can't  ride  out 
on  anything  but  chairs  hung  upon  bamboo  poles.  For  four- 
and-twenty  hours  the  rain  came  down  in  torrents,  as  though  it 
would  never  stop.  Now  it  is  cloudless,  warm,  and  bright ;  yet 
we  stay  within,  and  lounge  and  read  and  write. 

You  might  like  to  see  my  rooms  in  this  great  straggling,  one- 
story  new  hotel.  See  !  This  sitting-room  overlooks  the  tidy  ter- 
race above  the  queer  garden  park  and  bright  plashing  fountains. 
It  is  twelve  feet  square,  has  eight  mats,  and  two  sides  filled  with 
sliding  window-screens,  with  eighty  fine  white  paper  panes  in 
each.  Sliding  all  these  screens  back,  two  sides  of  my  corner 
room  are  opened  to  the  outer  world ;  closing  them,  the  light  is 
shaded  but  abundant.  These  Japanese  mats  are  about  two 
inches  thick,  of  regulation  size,  —  oblong,  two  yards  by  one. 


JAPAN.  59 

The  rooms  in  every  Japanese  house  must  be  built  to  fit  the  mats, 

—  four,  six,  eight,  ten,  or  any  even  number.  This  is  a  law 
strengthened  by  long  custom.  Over  tlie  sliding  screens  are 
transom  openings.  Outside  the  threshold  is  a  four-foot  walk,  or 
endless  porch,  which  is  also  closed  in  at  night  by  unlighted 
wooden  screens,  leaving  around  the  room  a  broad,  close  air- 
space. The  furniture  is  a  writing-table,  two  chairs,  and  a  rattan 
lounge,  none  of  which  have  really  any  right  in  this  soft-matted 
room,  but  they  are  here  to  accommodate  our  sort  of  people. 
Adjoining,  and  separated  by  silver-papered  sliding-doors,  is  my 
bedroom,  of  the  same  size,  with  bed  and  wash-stand,  neither 
of  which  should  have  place  in  such  a  room.  It  has  the  same 
arrangement  as  to  sliding  screens  and  ventilation  ;  also  a  movable 
screen,  clothes-rack,  small  mirror,  some  proverb  cards  of  morals, 
welcome,  and  good  cheer.  These  rooms  have  eight-feet  ceil- 
ings and  eight  doors  of  exit.  All  are  most  scrupulously  clean  ; 
for  does  not  their  proverb  say  that  "  Hell  is  full  of  untidy 
housekeepers  "?  Braziers  of  charcoal  are  used  when  warmth  is 
needed.  Dirty  foot-gear  is  not  to  come  upon  these  polished 
floors  or  soft-textured  mats,  into  which  the  feet  of  my  alien  chair 
sink  cruelly. 

The  chief  annoyance  one  meets  with  here  is  the  persistent 
pedler  class,  who  seem  infected  with  the  insane  idea  that  we 
should  buy  their  wooden  trash, — -boxes  and  dishes,  skewers  and 
chopsticks,  queer  cups  and  candlesticks.  We  scold  them  in 
ways  they  cannot  understand,  and  drive  them  away  with  showers 
of  admonition  they  will  never  profit  by.  The  only  thing  that 
redeems  these  troublesome  women  is  their  native  courtesy, 
which  never  seems  to  fail  them.  Rude  though  you  may  be  in 
getting  rid  of  them,  they  always  keep  their  bland  politeness,  and 
in  this  teach  us  what  we  ought  to  profit  by. 

Thousands  of  acres  of  these  surrounding  hills,  which,  steep  as 
they  are,  have  excellent  soil  and  would  make  fine  pasturage  for 
sheep  and  cattle,  are  left  to  entire  waste.  For  what  need  has 
the  Buddhist  of  flesh  of  brute  or  bird,  when  they  kill  no  living 
thing  for  any  use,  and  such  a  thing  as  leather  is  very  little 
wanted?     One  sect  —  for  Buddhism,  like  Christianity,  has  sects 

—  permits  the  use  of  fish  and  the  marriage  of  priests  ;  and 
these  permissions  are  more  and  more  generally  availed  of. 
While  travelling  in  the  country  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  pur- 


6o  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

chase  chickens  to  be  killed  for  the  table  ;  yet  at  several  places 
cattle  farms  have  been  begun.  Not  far  from  here  a  Yokohama 
banking  firm  has  opened  up  a  fine  stock-farm,  to  raise  cattle 
for  dairy  and  market  purposes,  and  good  success  is  met.  Yet 
without  the  demand  created  by  foreigners  for  beef  and  butter, 
cream  and  milk,  there  would  be  little  use  in  cattle  farming. 
The  great  mass  of  Japan  farm  and  city  people  know  not  meat 
or  butter,  milk  or  cream  ;  and  you  may  travel  here  for  weeks 
and  months  and  see  no  four-footed  kind  but  quiet  dogs  and 
bob-tailed  cats,  and  horses  and  bulls  for  burden  or  the  thills, 
and  these  latter  only  on  the  thoroughfares.  For  hauling  heavy 
loads  in  the  city  streets,  or  less  frequented  country  roads,  the 
human  coolie  comes  always  to  the  front.  On  his  two-wheeled 
cart  he  will  manage  heavy  bales,  timbers,  and  stone  that  would 
cause  some  dray-horses  to  look  back  over  their  collars.  It  is 
wonderful,  the  strength  these  men  possess,  who  live  on  rice  and 
other  vegetables  alone,  with  sometimes  a  little  fish.  Let  it  never 
more  be  said  that  superior  strength  comes  from  eating  flesh 
of  animals.  A  Yokohama  merchant  wagered  with  an  English 
officer  on  a  test  of  strength  between  four  coolies  and  four  vigor- 
ous Highland  soldier  athletes.  These  brawny  Scots  were  play- 
things in  the  coolies'  hands.  Their  beef  and  brawn  were 
powerless  when  matched  with  the  nervy  rice-fed  heathen. 

The  day  may  sometime  come  when  these  thick-verdured  hills 
will  not  all  run  to  waste.  The  better-educated  class,  who  have 
been  abroad,  or  learned  among  the  foreign  element  that  meat 
may  be  eaten  with  impunity ;  that  even  the  partaking  of  long- 
banned  food  does  not,  as  they  have  been  taught,  entail  disaster ; 
that  the  bodies  of  quadrupeds  and  fowls  do  not,  after  all,  perhaps, 
contain  the  spirits  of  dear  ones  dead  and  gone,  —  will  gradually 
work  this  needed  change.  The  people  are  learning  more  and 
more  to  wear  leather  foot-gear ;  leather  is  now  used  for  uphol- 
stery work,  for  carriage  work,  and  harness,  too,  and  belting. 
All  these  uses  are  new  to  the  Japanese,  and  will  help  develop 
cattle-raising.  It  is  a  fine  grape  country ;  but  there  is  among 
the  farmer  class  a  superstition  that  grapes  bring  bad  luck,  and  a 
farmer  will  no  more  raise  grapes  than  many  a  superstitious 
Christian  would  begin  an  important  work  or  journey  on  Friday 
or  on  Sunday.  We  have  superstitions,  too,  that  no  amount  of 
Christian  light  or  baptism  has  been  potent  to  efface  ;  let  us  not, 


JAPAN.  6 1 

then,  think  strange  of  our  heathen  brethren  for  having  some,  a 
trifle  different  though  they  be.  Buddha  and  Mahomet  were 
men  of  strong  prohibitory  views ;  both  taught,  and  bade  their 
disciples  teach,  that  wine  of  grapes  wrought  ruin  on  mankind ; 
and  it  is  such  teaching  as  this  that  bans  grape-growing  here 
to-day,  and  in  China.  India  also  classes  it  as  baneful  business, 
sure  to  bring  ill-fortune.  Buddha  said  to  his  followers  :  "  Obey 
the  law  ;  walk  steadily  in  the  path  of  purity ;  touch  not  intoxi- 
cating drinks  that  fire  the  blood  and  disturb  the  reason."  Ma- 
homet said  :  "  O  true  believers,  surely  wine  and  lots  (gaming)  are 
an  abomination,  a  snare  of  Satan  ;  therefore  avoid  them ;  ab- 
stain ye  from  them."  No  word  here  about  the  "  stomach's 
sake,"  or  "  for  mine  often  infirmities."  The  Latin  races  produce 
the  drunkards  of  the  day,  —  even  those  called  Christian.  But 
even  in  these  our  improving  latter  days  there  are  found  such  as 
quite  agree  with  Buddha  and  Mahomet,  that  from  the  vine 
springs  much  of  wrong  and  ruin. 


62  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JAPAN. 

Kioto,  the  Western  Capital.  —  Visit  to  an  Old  Japanese  Castle.  —  Theatres 
and  Wrestling-Matches.  —  A  Visit  to  the  Green-Room.  —  More  Colossal 
Idols. — Temples  and  Museums.  —  The  Contribution-Box.  —  Crema- 
tion in  Japan. — A  Religious  Dance.  —  Champion  Roosters  and 
Native  Swine.  —  Freaks  of  Female  Beauty.  —  Tea-Making  and  Tea- 
Drinking. —  Last  Days  in  Japan.  —  Seven  Hours  at  Nagasaki.  — An 
Old-Time  Yankee  Merchant.  —  General  Grant's  Camphor  Trees  — 
Good-by  to  Japan.  —  Again  at  Sea. 

KIOTO  is  the  western  capital  of  Japan,  —  the  home  of  the 
ISIikado  previous  to  1867.  Between  the  eastern  capital, 
Tokio,  the  present  residence  of  the  Emperor,  and  this  point, 
there  is  no  uninterrupted  communication  by  vehicle.  There  are 
several  ways  of  overland  travel,  but  the  numerous  mountain 
passes  bar  all  commerce  save  upon  the  backs  of  men  or  beasts 
of  burden.  There  is,  however,  ample  communication  by  water 
to  Kobe,  and  thence  fifty  miles  by  rail.  We  came  by  these,  and 
left  the  rail  at  Ozaka,  to  see  the  sights  and  resnme  jinri/cis/ia  rid- 
ing through  the  country. 

Ozaka  is  a  wealthy  business  place  of  a  quarter  of  a  million  peo- 
ple, with  narrow  streets  abounding  in  shops,  fine  modern  govern- 
ment buildings,  armory,  and  mint,  and  a  garrison  for  five  thousand 
native  troops.  Japanese  troops  are  dressed,  as  all  officials  are, 
in  European  costume,  and  armed  with  modern  implements  of 
warfare.  To  the  traveller,  Ozaka  has  some  attractions.  There 
is  a  single  European  hotel  on  the  half-native  plan,  where  you 
may  keep  your  boots  on,  sleep  on  a  bed,  and  eat  with  knife  and 
fork  from  European  plates.  The  fare  is  very  good,  and  prices  are 
high.  The  old-time  prices,  when  one  might  travel  on  foot  and 
live  on  tea-house  fare  for  three  or  four  cents  a  day,  are  among 
the  things  that  were.  Now  these  same  cents  have  grown  to 
dollars. 


JAPAN.  63 

This  was  formerly  the  strongest  military  point  in  all  Japan  ;  and 
to  visit  now  its  old  dismantled  castle,  with  its  miles  of  high 
stone  walls  and  broad  deep  moats,  is  worth  a  long  ride.  The 
castle  was  built  on  a  low  eminence,  three  hundred  years  ago, 
and  presents  a  better  idea  of  ancient  native  skill  in  warlike  en- 
gineering than  any  place  upon  the  island.  Such  massive  granite 
blocks  as  were  brought  from  distant  quarries  and  piled  into  high 
walls  of  defence,  I  have  never  seen  before.  In  Egypt  and  Asia 
Minor  they  handled,  for  religious  buildings  and  expressions, 
much  larger  ones  ;  but  when  here  in  Japan  we  come  face  to  face 
with  wrought  granite  blocks  that  measure  twenty  by  thirty  feet, 
giving  a  measurement  of  more  than  two  thousand  solid  cubic 
feet  and  a  weight  of  one  hundred  and  seventy  tons,  we  gaze 
with  real  wonder ;  for  even  now,  among  the  very  best  of  us,  such 
feats  in  quarry-work  and  mural  strength  are  rarely  undertaken. 
Yet  these  simple  dark-skinned  Japs,  with  common  iron  tools, 
split  out  these  massive  stones,  and  with  patient  toil,  slowly,  inch 
by  inch,  pushed  them  for  miles  on  wooden  rollers,  and  reared 
these  massive  walls  which  could  withstand  every  assault  save 
that  of  modern  warfare.  Nowhere  in  well-walled  Roman  forts 
or  among  the  cyclopean  walls  of  Grecian  citadels  are  such  stones 
to  be  seen.  The  miles  of  moats  are  some  two  hundred  feet  in 
width  at  the  foot  of  the  outer  walls  that  rise  in  gentle  curve 
some  sixty  feet  or  more,  angled  with  massive  masonry,  and  all 
between  filled  in  with  rock  of  random  size  and  shape,  smooth- 
cut  and  closely  jointed  without  mortar.  It  was  a  queer  fancy  of 
the  wall-builders  here  to  make  no  range-work  in  their  masonry. 
Whether  fine  or  coarse,  every  stone  was  used  with  as  little  waste 
as  possible,  making  an  odd  but  not  ill-looking  wall.  Most 
masons  destroy  much  of  their  stone  to  obtain  perfect  range- 
work.     These  men  saved  nearly  all. 

Obtaining  permission,  we  spent  some  time  within  the  castle 
walls,  —  once  castle  and  palace  \  now,  since  fire  has  ruined  all  it 
could,  a  garrison  for  troops.  Pity  it  is  that  a  country  so  small 
as  this,  so  much  shut  out  from  other  lands,  should  have  found 
it  necessary  to  spend  so  much  for  feudal  ambition.  But  be  the 
country  great  or  small,  in  olden  time  or  new,  the  greatest  end 
and  aim  of  all  is  how  best  to  defend  and  best  offend ;  how  best 
to  preserve  lives  and  property ;  how  best  to  take  our  neighbors' 
lives  and  lands.     Even  little  Japan  to-day  —  Japan,  a  kingdom 


64  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

whose  chiefest  strength  is  the  good-will  or  common  courtesy  of 
the  great  powers,  any  of  which  might  wipe  her  off  the  map  in  a 
month  —  sees  fit  to  put  on  costly  airs,  taxing  her  people  smartly 
to  keep  a  useless  standing  array  of  sixty  thousand  men  and  a 
mimic  navy  at  great  expense,  keeping  up  a  whole  system  of  war 
and  diplomacy  ten  times  beyond  its  needs.  It  seems  a  real 
shame  ;  and  yet  we  are  not  here  to  prevent  it.  So  long  as  there 
are  high  places  to  be  filled,  fat  salaries  and  titles  within  reach, 
and  ambitions  to  gratify,  there  will  be  no  change  in  these  affairs. 
Pagan  or  Christian,  it  is  quite  the  same  ;  people's  toil  and  treas- 
ure must  stand  the  cost,  and  no  religion  yet  has  come  that  men 
will  so  embrace  and  ratify  as  forever  to  bury  bloody  war  and 
safely  float  the  banners  of  perpetual  peace.  We  write  and 
preach  of  such  millennial  times,  and,  while  we  talk  or  hear,  plan 
some  new  means  for  more  effective  war. 

I  quite  forgot  to  say  that  there  was  mighty  wrestling  at  Ozaka, 
which  we  went  to  see.  A  wrestling  amphitheatre  there  seats  two 
thousand  people  —  on  mats.  It  is  a  daily  pastime  in  the  season, 
employing  a  wrestling  force  of  some  six  dozen  brawny  naked 
Japs.  The  show  opens  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  lasts 
till  sunset.  The  people  take  their  lunches  and  their  pipes,  and 
pay  four  cents'  admission,  and  bargain  for  a  vacant  box  inside. 
The  house  is  slightly  built  of  poles  and  boards  and  matting. 
The  wrestling  stage,  some  twelve  feet  square,  is  in  the  centre ; 
it  is  only  a  table  of  earth  thrown  up  five  feet,  sloped  at  the 
sides,  and  covered  with  stout,  coarse  matting.  Towards  this 
stage  the  ground  is  sloped  all  around  and  floored  with  loose 
boards  or  matting.  This  space  is  divided  up  into  little  boxes, 
or  pens,  by  bamboo  poles  tied  together  at  the  angles,  making  a 
fence  about  a  foot  high.  Each  pen  accommodates  four  or  five 
squatters,  and  costs  according  to  position.  A  gallery  some  eight 
or  nine  feet  high  runs  all  around  the  room,  and  is  penned  off 
in  the  same  way.  Our  "  box  "  in  the  gallery  cost  us  eighty  cents, 
and  gave  us  room  enough  for  four,  climbing  the  ladder  and 
choosing  our  places.  We  were  provided  with  stools  to  sit  upon  ; 
also  a  pot  of  tea  and  tea-cups  ;  likewise  a  tobacco  hoan,  —  a  lit- 
tle six-inch  box  fiirnished  with  an  earthen  bowl  in  which  a  lump 
of  charcoal  burns  upon  some  ashes,  and  an  ash-pan  of  bamboo, 
with  a  little  water  in  the  bottom  into  which  to  knock  the  pipe  or 
cigar  ashes.     All  this  you  must  have  and  pay  for,  whether  you 


japan:  65 

will  or  not,  as  the  smoking  utensils'  rent  is  the  usher's  profit, 
so  he  said.  They  brought  us  the  bill,  all  made  out  in  form, 
amounting,  for  our  party,  to  $1.23  for  a  twelve  hours'  sitting. 

The  floor-manager  announces  the  match  by  hitting  a  board 
with  a  flat-faced  club,  which  answers  for  ringing  a  bell.  Two 
athletes  —  naked,  except  as  to  breech-cloth  and  belt  —  come  on 
the  stage  and  rub  their  hands  with  sand,  squat  half-way  and 
smite  their  thighs,  kneel  face  to  face  and  study  the  chances  for 
a  "  catch-as-catch-can  "  grip,  waiting  for  the  word.  It  comes 
after  a  while  :  they  spring  to  their  feet  and  catch  at  each  otlier, 
aiming  to  get  hold  of  the  belt  or  to  gain  some  other  advantage. 
They  grapple,  tussle,  and  in  an  instant  or  a  minute,  as  the  case 
may  be,  one  or  the  other  is  pushed  or  pitched  from  the  level 
stage  down  the  bank,  which  ends  the  match.  They  do  not  seek 
to  throw  each  other,  though  a  throw  is  a  victory ;  but  rather  try 
to  clear  the  stage.  A  quick  push  and  trip  or  butt  will  some- 
times do  it  without  a  clinch.  Once  in  a  while  there  is  a  peculiar 
ceremony,  when  twenty  wrestlers,  clad  in  richly  embroidered 
fringed  silk  aprons  bearing  each  one's  arms  or  color,  appear 
upon  the  stage  and  make  slow  motions  with  their  upraised 
hands.  Then  they  file  off,  and  another  squad  files  on,  till  the 
ceremony  ends  and  wrestling  begins  again.  The  actors  are  men 
of  vast  muscular  development,  who  go  from  city  to  city.  Wrest- 
ling is  a  vastly  popular  national  sport,  w^hich  draws  the  fullest 
houses. 

So  we  came  to  Kioto,  with  our  swift-footed  retinue  of  half- 
naked  natives,  and  took  up  lodgings  at  this  low-roofed  hotel  to 
spend  some  days  in  rest.  Dinner  over,  then  the  theatre.  Pass- 
ing a  well-lighted  show  street,  we  entered  a  large  pole  and  mat 
building  boxed  off  like  the  wrestling-place,  only  the  stage  was 
on  one  side,  —  much  like  our  theatres,  yet  running  partly  around 
three  sides  ;  the  actors  making  their  entrance  from  the  front,  and 
passing  along  a  platform  in  front  of  the  seats,  which  are  under 
the  gallery.  The  play  on  this  occasion  was  founded  on  a  Jap- 
anese invasion  into  Corea  in  the  far-off  olden  time.  Landing 
there,  the  invaders  got  into  a  jungle  of  tigers,  which  made  things 
rather  lively  for  them. 

But  before  going  on  with  the  tiger  story,  let  us  with  downcast 
eyes  relate  an  episode,  or  something  of  that  sort.  Kimoto  had 
forgotten  something.     Kimoto  was  our  guide.     Rising  in  haste, 

5 


66  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

just  as  we  had  lighted  our  cigars  to  take  a  quiet  smoke  with  the 
rest  of  the  Japs,  he  beckoned  us  to  follow,  and  off  he  went  to 
the  green-room.  Now  there  was  nothing  wrong,  as  we  well 
knew,  in  going  to  a  green-room  in  Japan,  where  the  actors  all 
are  men.  So  we  went;  looked  into  the  tigers'  den  and  saw 
them  ready  for  the  fray ;  then  among  the  actors  ;  and  turning  to 
depart,  he  took  us  to  another  place  back  of  the  stage,  —  a  rather 
roomy  place,  with  lots  of  splashing  water.  Suffering  Moses  !  what 
a  sight !  To  get  at  the  matter  in  decent  order,  let  us  repeat 
what  we  have  said  before  :  theatres  here  are  for  all-day  business, 
—  from  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
There  are  plays  and  plays.  People  go  with  their  picnic  boxes 
and  sit  it  out,  —  one,  two,  or  all  the  plays.  So  they  sit  and  look 
and  chat  and  eat  and  drink  and  smoke  ;  gossip  with  their  neigh- 
bors, and  have  a  time  of  it  generally.  Well,  they  are  great  on 
bathing.  Just  as  soon  as  a  Jap  gets  tired,  feels  a  little  fagged 
and  heated,  he  hunts  for  a  bath.  It  may  be  a  brook,  a  well  and 
bucket,  or  a  regular  bath-house,  —  strip  he  will,  and  into  the  water 
he  goes  !  Now  those  all-day  sitters  must  needs  bathe.  So  when 
we  took  Kimoto's  word  and  looked  within  —  well,  they  were  all 
there  !  You  might  guess  a  hundred  times  on  which  plaguy  cur- 
tain we  drew  first,  and  not  guess  wrong.  You  might  take  your 
oath  that  the  folks  behind  that  fated  screen  of  print  got  out  and 
ran  and  tore  the  air  with  screams,  but  you  would  make  a  large 
mistake  :  like  museum  marbles,  they  went  about  their  business 
unconcerned.  Returning  sadly  to  my  seat,  I  can't  tell  how,  we 
were  ready  for  pipe  or  tea  or  tiger-fight. 

The  supes  pulled  upon  the  stage  a  painted  den,  from  which 
sprang  three  large  tigers  and  some  cubs,  which  went  into  an  act 
of  frisky  gambols  in  the  bamboo  brake.  One  furious  old  tiger 
climbed  a  tall  bamboo  pole,  cut  capers  on  it,  jumped  to 
another,  smooth  as  a  greased  ramrod,  climbed  to  the  dizzy  top, 
caught  on  a  grape-vine,  and  swinging  to  and  fro  over  the  peo- 
ple's heads,  got  to  the  floor.  The  general  of  the  invading  Japs 
appears  and  takes  his  seat.  The  tigers  rush  at  him.  He  lights 
his  pipe  and  blows  clouds  of  smoke  into  their  astonished  faces, 
burns  their  paws  with  his  pipe  paper,  and  finally  converts  them 
to  a  lamb-like  peace  with  a  religious  emblem.  The  Coreans, 
dismayed  at  their  savage  allies'  strange  defeat,  made  bold  to 
approach  the  beasts,  which  the  triumphant   Jap  turned   loose 


japan:  67 

upon  them.  So,  conquered,  the  Coreans  submitted  to  have  their 
heads  shaved  a  la  Japanese ;  and  the  scene  ended  with  a  grand 
procession. 

■  •••••• 

There  is  very  Httle  that  is  new  in  the  world,  —  only  variations 
of  the  same  thoughts  and  expressions  of  thought,  with  now 
and  then  a  change  which  seems  better  or  worse  than  most  fa- 
miliar things,  just  as  one  happens  to  have  been  educated.  All 
people  take  to  their  beds  as  night  comes  on,  —  not  necessarily 
on  bedsteads  and  mattresses  or  feather-beds,  yet  all  upon  the 
floor  or  very  near  it,  upon  something  more  or  less  soft,  and  with 
covering  according  to  the  climate  ;  and  all  are  liable  to  hear 
the  same  musical  note  of  the  cosmopolitan  mosquito.  We  are 
now  through  with  Japanese  beds,  but  not  through  with  the 
winged  musician.  We  have  taken  the  last  tea-house  meal, 
prone  upon  the  floor,  —  eating  about  the  same  food  that  we  eat 
at  home,  sitting  on  chairs,  from  tables  two  feet  higher.  Dressing- 
stands  and  mirrors  have  again  come  to  the  front,  but  no  sounder 
is  our  sleep  or  more  precise  our  toilet ;  and  though  we  still 
make  bare  our  feet  when  looking  over  merchants'  wares  and 
peering  through  the  temples,  we  do  not  miss  the  universal  tricks 
of  trade,  nor  yet  the  contribution-box.  The  merchant  works  for 
gain  wherever  goods  are  sold ;  and  the  church  has  not  been 
built  whose  coffers  overflow. 

At  Nara  we  saw  the  greatest  idol  in  the  world,  —  great 
Buddha.  Two  lofty  gates,  some  hundreds  of  feet  apart,  each 
guarded  by  gigantic,  grotesque,  scowling  figures,  were  safely 
passed  before  we  reached  the  lofty  portalled  temple.  Climbing 
the  broad  granite  steps,  we  passed  the  temple  threshold.  De- 
voted to  this  great  bronze  cast  is  a  building  of  vast  proportions, 
—  a  hundred  and  seventy  feet  wide,  two  hundred  and  ninety  feet 
long,  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  feet  high.  Coming  within  the 
most  holy  pagan  shrine,  we  had  scarcely  gazed  aloft  to  greet 
the  great  reformer  sitting  composedly  before  his  gilded  glory, 
when  the  bald-pated  sexton  softly  stepped  afront  and  cour- 
teously presented  his  neatly  bound  and  ruled  subscription-book  ! 
Though  taken  by  surprise,  the  sensation  was  not  new.  Many  a 
time  and  oft,  in  far-olT  Christian  lands,  had  the  same  pleading 
statement  been  made  to  us  :  "  We  are  poor,  our  edifice  is  want- 
ing repairs ;  whatever  you  can  do,  in  proper  frame  of  mind,  to 


68  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

aid  us  in  our  pious  work,  we  pray  you  do  so,  and  may  kind 
Heaven  reward  you."  This  is  no  new  thing,  we  said  ;  so  let  us 
not  turn  churlishly  aside,  even  though  this  paper  be  not  Chris- 
tian. Adown  the  list  of  donors  were  names  from  all  nations  of 
those  who  had  given  something,  and  with  ready  pen  we  jotted 
down  a  hundred  sen,  and  received  the  blessing  of  the  brevet 
priest,  who  kindly  told  us  that  since  we  had  been  so  good,  all 
the  gates  should  be  opened  to  us,  Buddha,  museum,  and  all. 

Great  Buddha  !  Cast  in  solid  bronze  more  than  eleven  hun- 
dred years  ago,  —  paid  for  by  subscription,  —  majestic  still  he 
sits  upon  lofty  granite  foundations  which  support  a  bronze  lotus 
flower.  The  lotus  rose  on  which  this  idol  sits  is  nearly  three 
hundred  feet  in  circumference,  with  petals  ten  feet  high.  The 
idol  rises  fifty-three  feet  higher,  a  perfect  giant,  —  the  largest 
idol  of  the  world,  before  whom  more  people  bow  in  prayer  than 
almost  every  other  deity  beside.  The  face,  crowned  with  a 
noble  forehead  and  close  curling  hair,  is  sixteen  feet,  the  mouth 
three  feet  eight  inches,  ear  eight  feet  six,  and  nostrils  so  large 
that  you  might  crawl  up  into  his  head  that  way.  The  bronze 
that  made  this  image  weighs  several  hundred  tons,  and  is  of 
untold  value.  Once  or  twice  the  costly  temple  has  been  burned 
down  over  his  head  by  lightning  stroke,  and  twice  the  lightning 
demon  of  the  air  has  melted  the  great  head  from  its  broad 
shoulders  ;  yet  as  often  has  it  been  restored.  For  the  past  hun- 
dred and  seventy  years  its  open  eyes  have  gazed  undisturbed 
upon  a  sinful  world,  the  uplifted  right  hand  and  advanced  mid- 
dle finger  warning  of  time  that  must  be  short,  and  eternity  of 
bliss  or  pain  that  must  be  everlasting.  This  great  mass  of  costly 
metal,  much  figured  over  with  pious  lessons  and  illustrations, 
like  Ghiberti's  "gates  of  paradise,"  was  thickly  coated  over  with 
gold,  the  first  discovered  in  this  land.  It  is  flanked  on  either 
side  by  two  more  colossal  Buddhas,  finely  carved  in  wood  and 
richly  gilt. 

The  museum  contains  many  examples  of  Buddhistic  warlike 
and  domestic  art ;  Buddhas  in  moulded  paper,  painted  and 
lacquered  two  hundred  years  before  our  era ;  more  gods  and 
shrines,  statues  and  paintings,  war  and  peace  trappings,  that 
carry  us  back  far  away  beyond  the  times  when  men  of  Christian 
lands  used  gunpowder  for  taking  towns  and  ships  and  brothers' 
lives.     This  great  temple  has  no  spire  or  steeple ;  but  a  little 


JAPAX.  69 

way  beyond,  up  a  long  flight  of  wide  and  easy-rising  granite 
steps,  is  a  bell  worth  seeing.  Cast  of  rich  bronze  in  the  eighth 
century,  when  Nara  was  the  Mikado's  populous  home,  it  has 
called  more  men  to  prayer  than  any  bell  that  was  ever  hung. 
It  has  a  height  of  thirteen  and  a  half  feet,  a  circumference  of 
nearly  thirty  feet,  a  thickness  of  nine  inches,  and  contains  thirty- 
six  tons  of  copper  and  one  of  tin.  It  is  rung  by  means  of  a 
horizontal  battering-ram  swung  upon  ropes.  Swing  this  long 
wooden  beam  back  and  forth  two  or  three  times  to  give  it  mo- 
mentum, and  then  let  it  butt  against  the  bell.  How  it  wakes  the 
echoes  !  Great,  deep -sounding  waves  of  richest  tone  vibrate 
through  the  air ;  the  whole  metallic  mass  trembles  and  quivers, 
distributing  far  and  wide  the  great  and  lesser  notes,  command- 
ing attention  for  miles  and  miles  around. 

There  are  other  very  old  and  interesting  temples  at  Nara,  — 
some  that  have  been  the  homes  of  prayerful  souls  for  twice  two 
hundred  years,  —  and  still  the  columned  courts  glisten  in  gold  and 
lacquer ;  still  the  people  come  and  go,  and  kneel  and  pray,  and 
weep  over  their  sins,  and  long  for  happiness  that  is  perpetual. 
Still  they  come  and  beseech  good  gifts,  and  toss  their  coppers 
into  the  contribution-box.  These  contribution-boxes  are  quite 
unlike  the  first  one  we  ever  saw,  which  was  Deacon  Aldrich's 
straw  hat,  that  weekly  went  around  the  pews  for  dimes  and  cop- 
pers. Later,  people  took  to  using  plates  ;  then  to  pouches  on  a 
pole  ;  but  none  of  those  contrivances  would  answer  here.  Im- 
agine now  a  box  of  plain  unpainted  pine,  iron  cornered,  five 
feet  long,  —  I  measured  one,  —  four  feet  wide,  and  four  deep. 
Across  the  top  are  two-inch  square  slats,  set  bias,  two  inches 
apart.  Just  below  are  common  louver  slats.  As  you  come 
to  prayers  this  affair  confronts  you,  often  resting  straight  be- 
tween you  and  your  deity's  shrine  ;  and  after  you  have  cleansed 
your  hands  in  the  purifying  waters,  and  before  you  have  thrice 
clapped  your  palms  to  make  known  your  presence  at  the  throne 
of  grace,  you  always  toss  in  a  coin.  It  strikes  a  slat,  drops  out 
of  sight,  and  falls  into  the  aching  void. 

"  How  often  are  these  boxes  opened,  and  how  much  do  they 
find?  "  we  asked  Kimoto,  while  loitering  around  a  big  Buddhistic 
contribution-box  one  day,  watching  the  coppers'  flight. 

"Twice  a  year;  and  sometimes  much  money  —  sometimes 
two,  three  thousand  yen,''  was  what  he  said.     (A  ye?i  is  about 


70  A    GIRDLE  ROUAW    THE  EARTH. 

one  dollar.)  No  shirking  at  these  contribution-boxes.  Men  or 
women,  many  or  singly,  as  they  come  to  pray,  toss  in  the  piece 
of  silver  or  the  widow's  mite.  It  may  be  much  ;  may  be  a 
copper  disk,  a  hundred  to  the  cent ;  but  in  it  goes  before  a 
word  of  prayer.  The  coin  may  bound  and  fall  upon  the  floor 
or  sand,  but  there  it  lies  ;  and  hardened  is  the  man  who  dares 
bestain  his  hand  and  soul  by  filching  the  devoted  money.  Who 
gets  this  money?  Who  gets  the  money  given  in  this  way  in 
Christian  lands? 

We  stopped  a  day  or  two  ago  before  a  pretty  and  rather  modest 
temple  shrine,  where  sat  a  clean-polled,  benevolent-looking 
priest,  with  big-rimmed  spectacles  astride  his  little  nose.  Be- 
fore and  above  and  about  the  godly  shrine  hung  little  children's 
frocks,  their  tiny  shoes,  and  pretty  little  belts  and  dolls  and  in- 
fant playthings.  "  What  is  this?  "  we  asked  our  guide.  "  When 
little  children  come  to  die,  their  mothers  bring  their  dresses  and 
their  playthings  here  and  hang  them  up,  and  give  a  little  money 
in  the  box  ;  and  every  day  the  priest  makes  prayers  for  little  ones 
to  be  made  happy  after  death,  and  have  nice  things  and  pretty 
playthings  when  they  come  to  stay  up  there  with  God."  Rather 
pretty  idea,  we  thought ;  and  as  we  talked,  a  stricken-hearted 
mother  came  and  tossed  her  little  coin  into  the  box ;  and  as  she 
placed  the  little  bundle  of  her  dear  and  dead  one's  pretty 
clothes  in  the  tender  priestly  hand,  we  thought  there  was  but 
one  thing  better  than  this,  —  the  saying  of  the  One  who  said  so 
many  good  things  :  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  Me, 
and  forbid  them  not." 

That  same  day  we  came  to  another  temple,  with  squatting 
priest,  and  several  women  sitdng  likewise  at  the  holy  shrine. 
On  little  tables  fronting  the  gilded  receptacle  were  several  small 
urns.  Inquiring,  we  were  told  that  these  contained  the  ashes  of 
people  that  day  burned.  They  cremate  in  Japan.  Though  in 
olden  time,  and  to  some  extent  now,  bodies  of  the  dead  are 
buried  in  the  ground,  and  rest  beneath  the  plain  or  sculptured 
stone,  many  are  burned  to  ashes,  the  ashes  urned  and  deposited 
for  a  day  or  two  before  the  special  temple  altar,  and  afterwards 
boxed  up  within  the  temple  warehouse  for  safe-keeping. 

"  How  much,  Kimoto,  does  it  cost  to  be  cremated  here?" 

"  Well,  if  he  be  rich  man  number  one,  it  cost  one  dollar ;  if 
number  two  man,  then  he  pay  seventy  cents ;  if  he  number 


JAPAN.  yi 

three,  like  coolies,  or  very  poor  man  who  got  no  friend  to  help 
him,  then  he  must  pay  thirty-five  cents." 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  cremate  here?  " 

"  In  three  hours  they  give  you  his  ashes." 

Bearing  in  mind  the  cost  of  funerals  in  Christian  lands,  and 
even  the  cost  of  cremating  there,  it  is  evident  that  the  price 
paid  for  preparing  one's  ashes  here  for  the  funeral  urn  is  not 
exorbitant ;  and  we  advise  all  such  as  are  crematorily  disposed 
to  make  a  note  of  it.  To  pay  one's  passage  here  to  be  cremated 
would  be  money  in  the  deceased's  pocket  almost  every  time. 

We  rather  like  Nara.  There  we  saw  the  first  religious  dance. 
We  had  eaten  our  breakfast  of  poached  eggs  on  toast,  broiled 
eels,  boiled  rice  and  jam,  and  coffee  without  cream,  attended 
all  the  while  by  the  silken-robed,  straw-slippered  widow-hostess 
of  Hotel  Musashino,  who  fluttered  to  and  fro  to  see  that  naught 
was  wanting,  said  our  good-byes,  and  started  ahead  of  our 
karnmas  to  see  another  temple  service.  \\'andering  along 
through  a  perfect  maze  of  tall  granite  lanterns,  through  a  park 
of  tame  dwarfed  spotted  deer,  who  come  to  get  a  bite  of  cake 
sold  us  by  their  keepers,  we  presently,  on  rounding  a  corner, 
came  upon  a  rather  gorgeous  little  temple.  Silken-robed  priests 
were  sitting  about,  smoking  queer  little  pipes,  and  talking  — 
about  the  weather,  we  supposed  ;  so  down  we  sat  upon  a  matted 
bench  to  join  them  in  their  smoke.  Our  curly-pated  attend- 
ant, not  Kimoto,  brought  us  two  blank  books,  —  one  for 
names  of  visitors,  the  other  for  subscriptions  to  a  dance.  We 
had  noticed  two  rather  gayly  dressed,  thickly  painted  girls 
crouched  on  mats  near  by,  and  the  colonel,  in  the  simplicity  of 
his  heart,  had  suggested  they  were  saintly  statues ;  but  as  the 
subscription  was  put  down  and  the  music  struck  up,  he  was  very 
properly  disenchanted  by  seeing  the  overpainted  figures  rise  to 
their  feet  and  take  position  for  a  duet.  It  was  the  saintliest, 
quietest,  thinnest  sort  of  dance  we  ever  saw.  To  the  slowest 
and  most  plaintive  music  came  the  most  listless  dancing  imagi- 
nable. But  it  was  very  modest,  the  costumes  were  neat  and 
chastely  elegant,  and  the  smileless,  expressionless  girls  went 
through  the  steps,  swinging  and  posturing,  ringing  their  clustered 
bells  and  waving  their  ivory  fans  in  the  most  orthodox  manner. 
It  was  all  pretty  enough  ;  but  for  a  subscription  dance,  we 
thought  it  somewhat  of  a  sell.     It  was  another  experience,  how- 


72  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

ever,  and  we  enjoyed  it.  The  girls  are  the  priest's  daughters, 
well  trained,  no  doubt,  but  enamelled  out  of  all  possible  expres- 
sion, and  not  able  to  play  an  engagement  on  American  boards 
for  a  cent  a  month.  I  don't  believe  pious  dancing  is  good 
dancing  anyhow.  "  Piety "  is  but  another  way  of  spelling 
"pity,"  and  what  pity  is  there  about  a  dance? 

From  Nara  and  its  ancient  temples  we  took  an  early  start,  while 
yet  the  grand  old  bell  was  sounding  forth  its  deep,  rich  voice,  to 
tell  the  world,  even  as  it  has  told  it  for  all  these  long,  eventful 
centuries,  that  the  broad  high  portals  of  Ta-dai-ji  are  about  to 
swing  upon  their  thick  bronze  hinges,  and  again  reveal  unto  the 
wondering  land  the  solemn  face  and  form  of  the  great  Buddha. 
With  one  more  look  upon  the  broad  and  beauteous  landscape, 
rimmed  in  with  the  soft  blue-tinted  mountain  range,  we  mounted 
our  karumas,  and  leaving  behind  a  most  picturesque  bit  of 
scenery  and  many  an  ancient  shrine,  went  rattling  back  into  the 
narrow  streets,  with  their  close-packed,  busy  life,  out  into  the 
country  again,  out  among  the  rice-fields  and  yet  more  frequent 
tea  tracts,  along  the  pretty  bamboo  lanes,  now  riding,  now  walk- 
ing, now  stopping  at  a  tiny  lanterned  shrine.  And  thus  we 
came  away  to  Kioto,  the  western  capital  of  Japan,  and  pitched 
our  tent  at  Hotel  Ya-Ami,  overlooking  the  great  tov\Ti. 

Speaking  about  roosters,  they  are  quite  as  tough  and  not 
less  noisy  than  their  brethren  of  the  same  language  away  in 
prairie-land.  Right  across  the  little  dwarf-tree  garden  that 
fronts  my  open-sided,  over-matted  room,  is  the  hotel  hennery ; 
and  morning  and  evening,  when  those  roosters  crow  or  when 
the  scullion  comes  to  catch  and  kill  them  for  the  next  day's 
pie,  there  is  active  bedlam  in  the  air.  I  recall  that  a  fellow 
on  the  ship,  speaking  of  freaks  in  Oriental  poultry,  said 
Japanese  roosters  were  known  to  have  tail-feathers  ten  feet 
long  !  My  pen  was  ready  to  indorse  him  as  a  relative  of  Eli 
Perkins ;  but  he  stubbornly  refused  to  concede  a  single  inch. 
Strolling  through  a  sort  of  by-street  menagerie  in  Tokio,  we 
saw  a  dignified  fowl  that  sported  tail-feathers  fully  six  feet 
long ;  but  the  other  four  feet  were  missing.  A  day  later,  while 
killing  time  in  the  city  museum  at  the  same  place,  we  found 
those  extra  four  feet  and  another  five  feet  added,  —  a  real  rooster 
with   six   tail-feathers   measuring   full   fifteen   feet !     Hereafter 


JAPAN.  73 

I  'm  not  going  to  disbelieve  any  yarn  I  hear ;  for  it  is  better 
to  have  no  end  of  faith  than  to  find  you  have  been  accusing 
people  of  telling  lies  when  they  are  really  dispensing  useful 
information. 

Americans  and  other  foreigners  are  not  much  liked  among 
the  real  Japanese  when  they  ask  for  meat.  For  in  their  pro- 
found calculations  on  human  destiny,  they  regard  every  bird 
that  flies  the  air,  and  every  beast  that  walks  the  earth,  as  the 
yet  earthly  habitation  of  the  spirit  of  some  possible  ancestor  or 
child  that 's  gone  before.  Travelling  by  some  country  roads,  you 
might  as  well  ask  a  woman  for  her  youngest  child  to  broil  for 
breakfast  as  for  a  spring  chicken.  The  guide  sometimes  man- 
ages to  get  hold  of  one  by  telling  the  woman  that  his  master 
wants  one  of  her  fowls  to  take  home  with  him  to  keep ;  and 
then  she  is  but  too  glad  to  grant  the  favor.  Guides  are  heathen, 
too ;  but  rubbing  against  so  many  Christian  pilgrims  who  pay 
them  well  for  service,  they  waive  the  transmigration  theory,  and 
getting  the  fowl  into  the  back  yard,  wring  its  pretty  neck,  and 
get  it  plucked  and  grilled  as  soon  as  possible.  But  for  this 
theory,  Japan  might  double  her  wealth  in  twenty  years.  But  the 
masses  are  as  much  opposed  to  eating  cattle-flesh  as  Christians 
are  to  eating  horse-flesh,  and  with  about  the  same  lack  of  reason 
and  weight  of  superstition.  Sometime  some  pious  fraud  got  this 
queer  theory  into  Japanese  heads,  and  at  some  other  time  some 
other  human  humbug  put  a  kindred  superstition  into  Hebrew- 
Christian  minds,  and  neither  one  nor  the  other  has  independence 
enough  to  shake  them  ofl"  and  out.  Our  superstitions  are  about 
the  most  firmly  rooted  theories  we  have. 

One  thing  —  we  have  not  seen  or  heard  of  swine  in  all  this 
kingdom.  It  is  a  great  relief.  Pork  forms  no  part  of  their  life 
or  thought,  so  far  as  we  can  hear.  Asking  our  guide  about  it, 
he  declared  that  he  would  show  us  before  noon.  Passing 
through  a  sort  of  show  street  a  black-teethed  female  invited  us 
to  spend  a  cent  or  two  to  see  her  beastly  collection.  She  had 
some  ugly  birds  and  a  restless  fox.     Kimoto  said  :  — 

"You  want  to  see  a  hog?     Come  here." 

It  was  a  porcupine  —  a  hedgehog.  Was  that  the  boasted 
hog,  —  the  only  hog  in  Japan  ?  It  was  the  only  one  he  knew  of. 
Poor  benighted  heathen  soul !  How  we  envied  him  his  inno- 
cence !     May  he  never  travel  far,  or  meet  a  missionary,  for  there 


74  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

is  oftentimes  a  blessedness  in  ignorance.     There  are  now  and 
then  some  swine  kept  here ;  but  it  is  not  the  fashion. 

We  spoke  just  now  of  black-teethed  women,  and  have  been 
trying  to  learn  why  such  an  odious  fashion  came  to  get  a  hold 
on  these  rather  pretty  heathen  women.  As  soon  as  they  get 
married,  or  pass  the  age  when  girls  usually  get  husbands  if  they 
have  any  luck  at  all,  out  comes  the  blacking  brush  and  stains 
the  pearly  teeth.  Instead  of  dental  pearls,  a  mouthful  of  dirty 
ebony  !  Faugh  !  fancy  it,  —  ruby  lips,  shining  hair  and  eyes, 
rather  fine  complexion,  then  rows  of  coal-black  teeth,  turning 
the  gleaming  facial  cavity  into  a  den  of  darkness.  I  hear  the 
Emperor  has  interfered,  on  sanitary  grounds,  to  check  the  use  of 
nauseous  oils  with  which  the  women  smear  their  hair ;  and  if  he 
would  but  go  a  little  farther  while  he  is  about  it,  and  recommend, 
in  the  customary  way  of  despots,  that  women  leave  their  teeth 
as  nature  made  them,  he  would  do  a  noble  act.  City  women  of 
the  better  class  are  already  abandoning  the  hideous  custom ; 
and  as  soon  as  the  fashion  for  adult  white  teeth  is  set,  they  will 
all  fall  into  line.  Kimoto  says  he  stopped  it  in  his  house  ten 
years  ago ;  but  he  added  :  — 

"  It  seems  European  womens  and  American  womens  have 
bad  customs  too.  I  never  go  there  but  some  I  see  she  pinch 
'em  in  her  waist,  some  most  like  cut  in  two  piece  ;  also  I  hear 
all  fashions  women  do  that.  That 's  very  bad  things  that 
Government  ought  to  make  stop." 

Despite  his  impudence,  the  fellow  was  in  the  right.  So  we 
quit  talking  about  unwholesome  customs  in  Japan,  reflecting 
that  only  to  such  as  have  no  sins  is  reserved  the  right  of  stoning 
the  offenders.  Moreover,  when  a  fashion  really  is  a  fashion, 
what  is  there  in  a  general  way  that  is  dearer  to  a  woman's  heart  ? 
Some  men  also  are  troubled  that  way.  With  women  it  is  a 
passion ;  with  men,  a  scarcity  of  brains. 

This  is  a  famous  tea  district.  Of  course  you  have  heard  it 
said  over  and  over  that  teas  are  damaged  by  the  ocean  voyage, 
and  that  to  taste  that  universal  beverage  at  its  best  one  must  go 
where  tea  grows.  There  is  some  truth  in  this  probably  ;  but  yet 
we  have  found  the  average  cup  of  tea  at  Japanese  stores,  tea- 
houses, and  other  public  places,  hardly  better  than  the  average 
cup  at  home.  Coming  through  what  is  called  the  best  tea  tract 
in  Japan,  the  other   day,  the  nasan  at  a  high-class  tea-house 


JAPAN.  75 

where  we  stopped  to  lunch  on  eels  and  rice  brought  the  never- 
failing  tea  things.  Taking  a  sip,  we  found  it  very  choice.  Testing 
some  by  chewing,  it  was  delicious,  —  hardly  astringent,  gratify- 
ing to  the  taste,  highly  aromatic.  Asking  the  girl  if  it  was  of 
the  very  best,  she  declared  it  was.  Asking  the  price  of  so  much 
as  she  brought,  —  an  ounce,  perhaps,  in  the  little  tin  caddy, 
—  she  ciphered  it  over  in  her  mind,  and  said,  "  Twenty  cents." 
Asking  her  to  go  and  buy  us  a  sample,  enough  to  fill  a  box  like 
hers,  she  went  away,  and  returning  with  another  box,  said  it 
was  icJii-bau,  "  first-class  ;  "  that  the  first  she  brought  was  only 
shaisi-ban,  "  seventh-class."  Then,  with  fresh  teapot  and  cups, 
she  sat  upon  the  mat  before  us  to  brew  aufait  a  cup  of  ichi-ban 
tea. 

Pouring  hot  water  into  a  cup,  she  let  it  stand  a  moment,  then 
turned  it  into  the  other,  then  in  a  moment  more  turned  it  into 
the  empty  teapot,  testing  with  open  hand  placed  over  each, 
from  time  to  time,  the  degree  of  heat  to  which  the  water 
brought  each  small  vessel.  Then  we  fancied  she  would  throw 
that  water  away,  but  she  did  n't.  Using  it  to  warm  the  cups 
and  teapot  had  cooled  it  sufficiently  for  brewing  tea.  Next  she 
put  as  much  as  two  tablespoonfuls  of  tea  into  the  pot,  making  it 
deepest  on  the  side  of  the  spout,  then  with  a  steady  hand 
poured  the  somewhat  cooled  water,  —  poured  it  not  upon  the 
tea,  but  at  the  side  opposite  the  spout,  and  so  carefully  as  to 
leave  the  top  of  the  tea  quite  as  dry  as  before  the  water  was 
poured.  Letting  it  stand  a  moment,  she  poured  a  teaspoonful 
into  a  cup  to  see  if  it  had  brewed  enough.  Dissatisfied,  she  threw 
it  out,  let  the  pot  stand  a  moment  more,  then  gently  poured  two 
tiny  cups  of  tea, — cups  not  much  larger  than  ordinary  egg- 
shells, —  three  tablespoonfuls  in  each,  perhaps.  I  never  tasted 
tea  before  !  nor  can  I  tell  how  it  tasted,  —  how  the  aroma 
played  upon  the  palate,  how  the  bouquet  of  it  stole  into  the  nose, 
how  every  sense  of  taste  and  smell  was  taken  captive  by  the 
savory  draught. 

This,  she  said,  was  the  best  cup  ;  now  she  would  brew  the 
ne-ba/i,  the  "  quality  number  two,"  which  she  did  by  carefully 
pouring  from  the  now  cooled  water-pot  more  water  down  the 
side  of  the  teapot,  yet  keeping  the  top  of  the  tea  dry.  This  in- 
fusion was  a  trifle  darker,  —  delicious  yet,  but  not  so  exquisite 
as  the  first.     She  then  explained  that  every  succeeding  cup, 


']6  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

clear  up  to  ju-ni-bati,  "  a  dozen,"  would  all  be  very  good,  but 
each  succeeding  one  less  so.  By  this  time  the  package  had 
come  in  from  the  merchants,  closely  sealed  in  tin  that  no  part 
of  the  precious  aroma  should  escape.  It  cost  at  the  rate  of  five 
or  six  dollars  a  pound ;  and  we  count  on  a  good  deal  of  tea- 
tippling  comfort  from  it. 

There  are  other  ways  of  tea-brewing.  At  Tokio,  the  other 
day,  we  stepped  inside  a  fine  tea-house,  such  as  only  aristocratic 
people  and  spendthrifts  can  afford  to  patronize.  The  nasan 
met  us  at  the  portal,  and  saying  no  word,  kneeled,  and  bowed 
her  face  to  the  floor,  then  helped  remove  our  shoes.  Escort- 
ing us  within,  she  opened  several  rooms  that  we  might  take  a 
choice,  kneeling  at  every  door,  or  sliding  screen,  to  open  it, 
in  that  humble  position,  with  eyes  upon  the  ground.  Of  course 
we  ordered  refreshments.  First,  as  we  squatted  on  the  pearly 
mats,  the  nasan  brought  the  never-to-be- omitted  tobacco  boan. 
And,  by  the  way,  this  piece  of  furniture  —  this  bit  of  coal  and 
ash  box  —  is  found  everywhere.  It  is  the  first  token  of  hos- 
pitality offered  at  tea-house,  store,  temple,  or  what  not.  It  is 
in  the  office,  the  family  room,  the  bedroom,  on  the  student's 
desk,  on  the  teacher's  table,  at  the  banker's  elbow,  at  the  actor's 
side  upon  the  stage,  in  the  opera  boxes,  at  the  temple  gate  and 
sacred  altar,  —  everywhere  ;  for  everybody  smokes,  regardless  of 
sex  or  condition,  whenever  and  wherever  they  like. 

Our  nasan  arose  from  her  knees,  went  away,  and  returned 
with  a  handsome  lacquered  tray  with  cakes  and  confections, 
which,  coming  slowly  to  her  knees,  she  placed  upon  the  mat, 
bent  low  her  forehead  to  the  earth,  gently  rose  again,  retiring  as 
she  came,  with  modest  mien  and  step.  Next  time  she  brought 
a  rather  pretty  three-pint  bowl  with  a  greenish  fluid  in  the  bot- 
tom ;  kneeling  again,  she  placed  it  at  our  feet,  again  embraced 
the  earth,  arose  and  moved  away  once  more.  Again  returning, 
with  noiseless  tread,  another  bowl  was  brought  and  left  before 
another  guest,  with  the  same  genuflections ;  then  she  retired 
again,  to  return  with  still  another  bowl,  which,  with  less  postur- 
ing, she  placed  before  our  native  guide,  who  for  the  first  time 
then  spoke. 

"This,"  said  he,  "is  tea  in  high-class  people's  style,  ground 
so  fine  —  so  very  fine  than  coffee.  You  drink  him  this  ways. 
Open  both  hands  and  clasp  him  round  the  top,  —  this  ways  ; 


JAPAN.  yy 

just  leave  place  on  front  side  enough  big  for  your  mouth ;  then 
pick  him  up  this  ways  ;  then  take  just  one  swallowing,  then 
another  time  a  swallowing,  then  third  time  a  swallowing,  then  a 
half  swallowing  quick  so  you  not  leave  not  one  little  drop  to  go 
back  in  the  bottoms  of  the  cup.  Every  cup  has  just  three  and 
half  swallowings.     Now  we  drink." 

One,  two,  three,  and  then  a  sharp,  swift  sip  !  Did  it  the  first 
time  !  Down  went  the  water,  tea  and  all.  This  was  really 
drinking  tea,  as  the  Arabs  drink  their  coffee,  grounds  and  all. 
Yet  were  we  not  happy.  The  tea  was  very  green  and  fresh 
and  fine  ;  the  7iasafi  dressed  in  pretty  silks  and  rather  gorgeous 
obi,  modest,  petite,  hardly  four  feet  six,  and  silent  as  a  doll ; 
but  wishing  very  much  to  see  more  of  this  mysterious  process, 
when  she  came  to  take  the  dishes  out,  I  followed  her  unbidden 
into  the  curious  little  kitchen,  with  its  natty  little  charcoal  fur- 
nace. Upon  the  brightly  polished  floor,  with  boan  box  by  his 
side,  squatted  a  coolie  turning  at  a  little  stone  mill.  Into  the 
least  bit  of  a  hopper  he  dropped  with  his  right  hand  now  and 
then  a  pinch  of  bright  green  tea-leaves,  crisp  and  dry  and  ten- 
der. Around  the  bottom  came  forth  the  powdered  tea.  This 
is  returned  into  the  hopper,  the  mill  set  finer  still,  and  over  and 
over  this  grist  of  tea  is  ground,  —  ground  and  sifted  several 
times,  till  ready  for  use,  when  it  is  an  impalpable  powder. 
This  is  steeped  for  an  instant  in  hot  but  not  boiling  water,  and 
served  as  we  have  tried  to  tell.  It  was  good  ;  but  when  we 
want  the  very  best  of  tea,  commend  us  to  the  black-teethed 
nasan  of  the  village  inn  near  Nara.  Not  very  handsome  was 
this  neat  old  maid ;  but  when  it  comes  to  making  tea  she  was 
an  angel.  And  I  heard  it  said  long  ago  in  Yankee-land,  and 
heard  it  again  here  beyond  the  sea,  that  your  really  neat  and 
tidy  spinster  folk  brew  better  tea  than  anybody  else. 

These  natives  don't  gulp  down  their  tea,  but  sip  it  daintily. 
From  a  little  teapot  rarely  holding  more  than  a  gill,  they  pour 
two  large  tablespoonfuls  into  tiny  cups,  filling  them  half  full. 
Taking  this  from  its  little  porcelain  or  metal  tray,  they  sip  and 
nurse  it  tenderly,  —  a  sip,  and  a  long  breath  indrawn  approv- 
ingly, as  connoisseurs  treat  their  choicest  golden  sherry ;  noth- 
ing is  in  haste,  but  all  is  done  thoughtfully  and  gratefully.  If  I 
toss  off  some  half  dozen  of  these  half-swallow  cups,  as  some- 
times happens  on  a  sweltering  day,  the  people  look  on  me  with 


y8    .  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

open,  pitying  eyes,  suggesting  in  their  way  my  certain  lack  of 
proper  education.  As  with  their  tea,  so  with  tlieir  pipe,  —  they 
take  it  in  small  doses,  but  very  often. 

I  have  watched  these  people  smoking  time  and  again,  but 
never  saw  them  take  more  than  three  whiffs  at  a  smoke.  Their 
pipes  are  gauged  to  that  extent  j  they  smoke,  inhale  the  vapor, 
blow  it  from  their  lungs,  knock  out  the  ashes,  then  wait  till  the 
next  time.  Their  tobacco  is  of  the  mildest  sort,  —  not  at  all 
like  our  old  Virginia,  so  full  of  vim  and  paralysis.  The  tobacco 
crop  of  Japan  is  not  large,  but  peculiar.  It  is  almost  wholly 
taken  in  London.  It  has  the  peculiarity  of  holding  more  water 
than  any  other  kind.  The  local  buyer  here  buys  it  well  dried, 
then  sorts  and  dampens  it.  If  he  gets  in  London  the  price  per 
pound  that  it  cost  him  here,  he  makes  a  good  round  profit,  — 
as  milkmen  sometimes  do,  directly  from  the  pump.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  no  such  tricks  in  the  tobacco  trade  exist  in  the  States. 

Our  last  days  in  Japan  were  spent  in  her  western  cities. 
Closing  our  country  travel  at  Kobe,  the  busiest  of  the  western 
ports,  we  came  away  by  water  to  the  old  and  well-known  port  of 
Nagasaki.  Kobe  was  taking  her  turn  at  cholera  when  we  left ; 
and  Nagasaki,  which  has  suffered  most  severely  during  the  past 
month,  had  quite  recovered,  though  her  port  was  not  yet  offi- 
cially reopened.  Cholera  here  is  often  very  virulent,  but  only 
among  the  natives.  Of  the  several  thousands  that  died  about 
Nagasaki  within  six  weeks,  not  a  death  was  recorded  among  the 
foreign  settlers.  So,  too,  at  the  other  ports.  The  cleanly  sec- 
tions, native  or  foreign,  need  have  no  fear;  the  epidemic  con- 
fines its  work  to  the  lower  classes  always,  and  ships  may  come 
and  go  regardless  of  its  ravages. 

Nagasaki  is  the  snuggest  Httle  gem  of  a  harbor  in  the  East, — 
land-locked,  rimmed  in  by  steep  hills  almost  large  enough  to  be 
mountains,  upon  one  side  of  which  is  built  the  city.  We  en- 
tered the  harbor  in  the  morning.  But  litde  shipping  was  seen, 
owing  to  the  cholera  scare ;  but  the  city,  templed  hills,  the 
palatial  residences  of  the  missionary  and  other  foreign  folk, 
built  in  the  midst  of  spacious  and  well-kept  gardens,  made  up 
a  lovely  picture.  Prominent  among  the  flags  of  the  several 
nations  represented  here  was  that  of  Uncle  Sam.  Our  friend, 
the  consul,  was  on  the  ground,  and  being  well  apprised  of  our 


JAPAN.  79 

coming,  hung  out  his  biggest  banner.  And  there  is  more  in  this 
flag  business  than  you  may  think.  Wandering  about  the  world, 
you  find  the  flags  of  the  nations  floating  everywhere  ;  and  when 
you  see  that  same  old  bunting,  you  feel  quite  near  at  home,  and 
hail  it  as  a  friend,  a  powerful  protector,  a  rainbow  in  the  sky 
full  of  unfailing  promise. 

The  consul  met  us  at  the  ship's  stairs,  with  his  neat  gig 
and  coolie  crew,  accompanied  by  Captain  Powers,  a  long- 
time Yankee  merchant  there,  and  Captain  Furbur,  an  old-time 
Yankee  captain,  who  some  years  since  had  left  the  seas,  and 
with  his  elder  brother,  the  well-known  Commodore,  had  chosen 
Nagasaki  as  the  loveliest  spot  they  knew  in  all  the  wide  world, 
and  here  built  their  spacious  bachelor  home. 

To  this  home  the  consul  took  us.  The  Commodore,  of  whom 
we  had  heard  so  much  from  men  of  the  sea,  and  whom  we 
hoped  to  meet,  had  but  a  few  weeks  before,  full  of  years  and 
ripe  in  goodness,  been  called  home  to  rest.  The  bereaved 
brother,  quite  overwhelmed  by  his  great  loss,  finding  the  chosen 
home  no  more  attractive,  had  decided  to  spend  some  years  in 
travel ;  so,  to  the  great  fortune  of  the  consul  of  the  States,  this 
lovely  house  and  grounds  were  placed  at  his  disposal  for  a  home 
and  consulate.  Surely  no  one  in  the  service  has  such  a  comely 
place.  We  loitered  through  its  rooms,  furnished  with  such 
things  as  taste  and  luxury  may  command ;  through  its  broad 
and  well-kept  gardens,  abounding  in  the  choicest  trees  and 
flowers  ;  into  the  cosey  nooks  and  by  the  fountain-side  ;  along 
the  well-kept  bordering  hedges,  and  beneath  the  shade  of  vine 
and  fruited  fig-tree,  and  felt  ourselves  quite  at  home  again. 

"  Here  we  lived,"  so  the  good  old  captain  said,  "  brother 
and  I,  within  this  house  and  grounds  for  many  a  quiet  year,  in 
perfect  homelike  happiness.  In  all  this  house  and  grounds 
there  was  but  a  single  lock  and  key,  —  that  of  the  garden  gate  ; 
and  that  was  seldom  used.  Our  goods,  our  pretty  things,  our 
money,  were  all  within  reach  of  such  as  might  come  to  take  it ; 
but  none  such  came.  Our  servants  and  their  friends  all  came 
and  went  at  pleasure ;  not  a  penny's  worth  was  ever  missed. 
This  was  our  earthly  paradise,  where  what  one  has  is  safe  with- 
out a  lock  or  bolt  or  bar.  What  could  be  better  ?  Where  could 
we  have  gone,  into  what  city  or  village  in  our  native  Yankee- 
land,  —  our  land  of  steady  habits,  as  we  say,  —  where  mine  and 


8o  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

thine  would  be  so  well  respected  ?  I  am  a  Christian,  as  they 
say ;  but  in  what  Christian  seaport  might  we  have  gone  and 
housed  ourselves  in  this  safe  and  careless  way,  and  been  secure 
as  here  among  these  heathen?  Heathen  !  When  paganism 
gives  me  such  an  asylum,  so  good  and  safe  a  home,  so  much 
relief  from  care  and  watch  and  labor,  what  must  I  say  of  it 
but  good?" 

All  too  short  are  six  little  weeks  for  bright  and  beautiful 
Japan,  —  a  country  small  in  territory,  yet  abounding  in  interest; 
a  recent  hermit  nation,  now  opened  up,  eager  to  follow  the 
better  ways  of  other  lands  and  take  her  place  among  the  more 
progressive  nations.  Though  scarce  a  score  of  years  upon  her 
new  course,  yet  faster  than  that  of  any  other  people  of  which 
history  speaks  has  been  her  progress.  A  score  of  years  ago 
almost  unknown  beyond  her  outer  shores,  her  harbors  closely 
shut,  her  government  an  enigma,  her  ruler  a  recluse,  a  sight  of 
whom  by  ordinary  eyes  was  counted  instant  death,  her  roads 
but  paths,  and  all  her  peoples  serfs  to  feudal  lords ;  now  a 
place  of  progress,  light,  and  bustle.  New  roads  for  country 
commerce ;  railroad  and  steamer  lines  work  through  the  land 
and  pass  from  port  to  port ;  army  and  navy ;  modern  adminis- 
tration of  laws ;  thorough  courts  and  councils ;  modern  im- 
provements of  almost  every  kind.  Travel  in  Japan,  by  one  who 
likes  to  see  the  outer  world,  is  a  constant  round  of  pleasure. 
There  are  no  broad  expanses  ;  the  scenery  shifts  at  almost  every 
moment,  —  now  a  mountain  range,  then  a  lovely,  cultured  val- 
ley ;  here  a  mountain  pass,  from  which  are  opened  up  to  view 
yet  other  mimic  mountains,  villages,  and  valleys ;  bright  ocean 
views,  studded  with  cosey  islands ;  the  dashing  river,  the  silver 
water-falls,  —  a  busy  form  of  nature,  inhabited  by  a  most  mild- 
mannered,  patient,  peaceful  people. 

Seven  hours  or  so  —  it  should  have  been  as  many  sunny  days 
—  was  all  the  time  the  Shanghai  steamer  gave  us  to  visit  Naga- 
saki. Chats  and  tiffin,  rides  about  the  solid  granite  streets,  visits 
to  the  temples  and  bazaars,  sipping  tea,  seeing  the  camphor- 
trees  that  were  planted  in  the  temple  grounds  by  General  and 
Mrs.  Grant,  hearing  of  many  a  drive  and  lovely  spot  we  ought 
to  go  and  see  but  could  n't,  —  then  to  the  ship  again  to  say  our 
last  adieus. 

About  those  trees  :  General  Grant's  party  was  here  some  five 


JAPAN.  8 1 

or  six  years  ago,  —  the  first  point  they  reached  in  Japan.  The 
greeting  was  most  cordial.  Americans,  English,  Germans,  Rus- 
sians, French,  were  all  alert,  but  not  more  so  than  the  native 
powers ;  and  nothing  was  left  undone  to  entertain  and  honor 
him.  To  make  the  memory  lasting,  the  General  and  his  wife 
were  asked  to  plant  some  camphor-trees  within  the  temple 
grounds ;  and  here  they  were  growing  sturdily,  protected  by  a 
fence,  near  by  a  polished  granite  slab  on  which  in  gilded  letters, 
in  the  General's  own  hand,  was  deeply  cut  the  letter  of  dedica- 
tion, also  its  translation  into  Japanese,  —  a  golden  graven  granite 
tie  between  the  world's  grandest  republic  and  the  brave  and 
vigorous  empire  of  Japan. 

Now  off  to  sea  again ;  and  now,  Japan,  "  fountain  of  light," 
good-by  !  Good-by  to  your  curious  cities  and  their  sights  ; 
to  your  pretty  paddy-fields  and  picturesque  scenery ;  to  your 
sofdy  verdured  mountains  and  silver-threaded  valleys ;  to  your 
loveliest  of  lakes  and  wildly  rushing  rivers ;  to  your  fields  of 
tea  and  millet,  and  graceful  bamboo  groves ;  to  torii  and  to 
temple  ;  to  school  and  shrine  ;  to  karuma  and  tea-house  ;  to  the 
most  curious  of  countries  and  most  unique  of  empires,  —  to  all 
of  these,  and  countless  other  things  and  ways  and  whiles  and 
scenes  and  wiles,  we  bid  a  kind  adieu,  bidding  all  a  hearty  God- 
speed in  ways  of  light  and  of  prosperous  progress. 


82  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CHINA. 

Shanghai,  the  Emporium  of  the  East. —  The  Chinese  Enigma.  —  Off  for 
Pekin.  —  The  Yankee  Skipper  Abroad.  —  Home  Newspapers  and 
Baked  Beans.  —  Sunday  at  Sea.  —  Methods  of  xMaritime  Commerce. 
—  Up  the  Pel  Ho  River.  —  By  Mule-cart  to  Pekin.  —  A  Memorable 
Journey. —  The  Great  Central  City  of  the  Middle  Kingdom. 

SHANGHAI,  the  "  Emporium  of  the  East,"  is  some  miles 
up  the  Yangtse  River.  The  word  means  "  approaching 
the  sea."  The  white  man's  quarter  of  the  town  is  of  the  present 
century.  Colonel  Selden,  my  compagnon  de  voyage,  was  here 
just  forty  years  ago,  a  sailor  lad  upon  the  "  Panama,"  before  a 
foreign  house  had  been  established  here.  Now  there  is  a  colony 
of  nearly  three  thousand  European  and  American  residents. 
A  fine  city  has  sprung  up  on  the  Concession,  with  grand  build- 
ings, public  and  private,  noble  bund  and  gardens,  famous  streets 
and  drives  ;  with  water,  gas,  and  electric  lights  ;  hotels  and 
race-course,  ball  and  tennis  grounds,  —  a  wealthy,  strong,  and 
very  busy  people.  The  colonel  finds  one  memory  here,  —  Cap- 
tain John  Roberts,  a  lad  some  forty  years  ago.  These  ship- 
mates now  renew  their  memories  and  build  a  bridge  two-score 
years  long,  one  end  of  which  antedates  the  days  of  ocean 
steamships  and  telegraphs.  We  give  Shanghai  a  single  day; 
for  winter  comes,  and  Pekin  is  farther  north,  a  thousand  miles 
away. 

This  China  country  is  an  enigma.  It  is  the  same  China  it 
always  was,  and  though  it  has  given  the  world  many  good  things, 
it  makes  but  little  progress,  save  in  ships,  perhaps,  and  matters 
of  defence.  But  its  steamships  are  made  abroad,  and  so  are  its 
arms  ;  while  as  to  sailing  ships,  and  dress,  and  general  customs, 
it  has  not  advanced  in  all  these  thousands  of  years.  The  Japa- 
nese are  changing  everything ;  building  railroads  and  engines, 
factories  and  houses  ;  changing  their  mode  of  dress  and  ways  of 
doing  up  their  hair ;  and  they  want  to  throw  aside  the  clumsy 


CHINA.  83 

Chinese  letters  and  bring  in  the  Roman  print.  China  does  n't 
build  railroads.  She  let  one  be  built  along  the  Shanghai  shore 
by  foreigners ;  but  it  was  altogether  too  much  of  a  new  thing, 
so  she  bought  it  in,  then  tore  it  up  and  moved  it  out  of  the 
country,  rails  and  wheels,  as  something  not  good  for  China- 
men. She  cuts  and  makes  her  clothes,  does  up  her  hair,  and 
cramps  her  women's  feet,  just  as  she  did  in  days  of  yore  ;  and 
when  we  get  to  port,  some  eighty  miles  short  of  the  capital 
city  of  Pekin,  we  shall  have  to  take  a  two  days'  ride  upon  a 
clumsy  donkey-cart,  without  a  seat  save  the  floor,  and  without 
a  spring  save  what  a  heavy  axle  makes  as  the  trap  goes  jolting 
over  the  stony,  rutted  road. 

Yet,  for  all  this,  China  printed  with  type  two  thousand  years 
ago,  when  our  forefathers  lived  in  dens  and  caves,  and  swathed 
themselves  with  straw  and  untanned  skins.  Sixteen  hundred 
years  ago  she  built  the  great  wall  of  defence,  —  the  greatest 
mural  work  yet  undertaken  by  human  hands  ;  made  printing 
paper  while  yet  there  was  not  a  printed  book  in  all  Europe  ; 
made  gunpowder  two  thousand  years  ago  ;  made  sugar  and  used 
it  in  her  cooking  before  the  time  of  Moses,  —  sugar,  which  was 
unknown  even  in  England  until  the  fifteenth  century.  Silks, 
too,  and  cottons  she  had  made  and  used  in  plenty  while  Europe 
was  barbarian ;  and  yet,  while  the  later  race  has  come  swiftly  to 
the  front,  she  sits  in  quiet  with  her  ancient  thoughts  and  customs, 
conservatively  content. 

So,  too,  in  her  religion  :  no  change  of  form  or  thought  is 
welcomed.  It  was  Buddhistic  thousands  of  years  ago,  and  is 
Buddhistic  still,  —  unchanged  and  unchanging  through  all  the 
years  and  light.  Confucius,  her  great  man  of  wisdom,  said 
twenty-three  hundred  years  ago  :  — 

"  What  I  do  not  wish  men  to  do  unto  me,  I  also  wish  not  to 
do  to  men." 

This,  then,  is  their  golden  rule  of  human  action  ;  not  wishing 
to  be  disturbed  in  their  manners  and  their  ways  ;  not  going  forth 
or  reaching  out  to  molest  other  people's  homes  and  ways  and 
thought.  They  have  not  been  permitted  to  rest  in  this  way  at 
every  point ;  yet  China  of  yore  is,  in  the  main,  the  China  of 
to-day,  and  of  a  truth  our  code  of  morals  is  taken  more  from 
them  than  we  might  like  to  admit ;  for  it  was  this  same  great 
saint  who  said  :  — 


84  ^    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

"  Recompense  kindness  with  kindness  ;  recompense  evil  with 
justice." 

Talk  as  much  as  we  may  about  returning  good  for  evil,  it  is 
pretty  much  all  talk ;  and  as  to  looking  up  a  coat-thief  to  hand 
him  your  cloak,  as  our  theology  directs,  we  sooner  hunt  him 
with  a  shot-gun.  The  above  quotation  covers  the  ground,  —  is 
the  foundation  of  all  our  social  law  and  custom  and  all  our 
criminal  law,  even  among  the  Christian  nations.  Another  drop 
of  Chinese  wisdom  rather  pleases  me.  Said  one  of  the  disciples 
of  Confucius,  —  one  who  wished,  like  some  others  you  may  have 
met,  to  have  the  Scriptures  reduced  to  their  lowest  terms  :  "  Is 
there  not  some  single  word  that  would  serve  as  a  rule  of  prac- 
tice for  all  one's  life?  "  Confucius  replied  :  "  Is  not  reciprocity 
that  word  ?  What  you  do  not  want  done  to  yourself,  do  not  do 
unto  others."  Rather  good  sort  of  a  doctrine,  that.  If  these 
Chinamen  live  up  to  that  sort  of  religion,  what  use  is  there  in 
sending  missionaries  out  to  teach  them  different  things? 

The  steamer  "  Hae-Ting,"  Captain  Wells,  is  bound  for  Tien- 
tsin, on  the  way  to  Pekin,  —  Pekin,  the  capital  city  of  China ; 
China,  —  Chung Kow,  "the  middle  kingdom,"  —  the  oldest  of 
the  nations,  land  of  the  tea-plant  and  the  pig-tails,  home  of  the 
printing-press,  gunpowder,  and  silk-worm,  source  of  much  light 
and  learning  unto  the  nations  of  the  West ;  Pekin,  the  biggest 
city  in  the  world.  It  was  good  old  Peter  Parley,  some  fifty 
years  ago,  who  made  so  many  little  lads  uncomfortable  with  his 
geography  stuff,  who  told  us  that  Pekin  was  such  an  enormous 
place.  Up  to  that  time  I  had  honestly  supposed  Montpelier 
was ;  and  since  then  I  have  been  learning  lots  of  things  only  to 
have  to  unlearn  them. 

It  proved  a  fortunate  chance  that  we  took  this  ship,  the 
steamer  "  Hae-Ting,"  "mild  sea,"  commanded  by  a  good  old 
Yankee  captain,  who  at  his  quiet  office-desk  makes  me  feel  so 
much  at  home  reading  the  old  "  Maine  Farmer "  and  lots  of 
other  Yankee  papers,  as  also  the  Chicago  "  Times."  The 
colonel  spins  a  yarn  about  a  voyage  of  his,  some  two-score 
years  ago,  in  these  dark  China  waters,  fishing  for  a  shark. 
Catching  the  fish,  they  hauled  him  on  deck,  and  cutting  him 
open,  found  among  other  things  a  copy  of  the  New  York 
"  Herald."     Captain  Wells  seems  to  have  been  quite  as  fortu- 


CHINA.  85 

nate  as  was  the  hungry  shark  in  selecting  newspapers.  He  is 
a  Hallowell  man,  and  rather  likes  to  meet  a  wandering  Yankee 
and  have  a  quiet  chat  about  farm-life  and  cattle  ;  and  says  when 
he  gets  enough  to  buy  a  farm  he  means  to  quit  the  sea  and  go 
straight  away  to  Yankee-land  and  go  to  digging  stone  and  build- 
ing wall.  Natural  Yankee  !  Could  n't  be  happy  without  stone 
wall  and  the  Sunday-morning  pot  of  baked  beans.  We  think 
he  '11  get  back,  for  among  his  cherished  treasures  are  a  noble 
wife  and  three  as  pretty  daughters  as  you  ever  saw.  W^e  know 
this,  for  has  he  not  their  well-kept  photographs?  He  says  when 
he  is  lonely  he  takes  a  good  look  at  these,  then  goes  aft  and 
sits  among  the  duck  and  chicken  coops,  and  imagines  he 's  at 
home  again,  —  an  honest  farmer  there. 

This  is  Sunday,  and  Sunday  on  a  Chinese  merchantman  is 
much  like  any  other  Oriental  day ;  no  religious  service  further 
than  the  welcome  loaf  of  brown  bread  and  pot  of  baked  beans, 
so  dear  to  the  universal  Yankee's  heart,  —  a  substantial  form  of 
Christianity  that  Captain  Wells  has  introduced  with  great  suc- 
cess, and  in  whose  grateful  presence  most  other  forms  are  quite 
forgotten,  —  taking  the  place  of  pheasants,  roasts  of  beef  and 
chicken,  salads,  and  savory  mutton  stews.  With  thankful  hearts 
and  active  knives  and  forks,  forgetful  of  our  privations,  our 
rituals,  and  our  Celestial  surroundings,  we  appease  our  hunger 
on  our  old  New-England  dish ;  for 

"  Never  our  heart  from  our  native  land  weans, 
When  smokes  on  the  table  the  pot  of  baked  beans." 

How  we  pity  the  two  hundred  Celestials  in  the  after  part  of 
the  ship,  whose  "chow"  is  rice  and  fish!  And  what  a  sore 
mistake  our  missionaries  make  in  not  first  converting  these  stub- 
born pagans  to  baked  beans  and  bread  !  This  accomplished, 
how  easy  the  things  pertaining  to  the  life  which  is  to  come  ! 

Our  passengers  are  twelve,  —  our  Christian-speaking  pas- 
sengers,—  American,  English,  German,  French,  Russian,  and 
Danish.  Missionaries  four,  tourists  two ;  the  rest  on  missions 
diplomatic  and  mercantile.  Dropping  anchor  the  third  day  out, 
for  the  first  time,  to  spend  some  hours  in  discharging  freight,  we 
get  our  first  good  view  of  Chinese  maritime  hfe  at  Chee  Foo, 
the  fashionable  summer  resort,  —  the  Saratoga  of  the  mission 
folks,  the  captain  says,  —  a  place  of  mineral  waters,  fruit,  and 


86  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

cooling  shade  ;  where  silk-worms  feed  on  oak-tree  leaves  instead 
of  mulberry  ;  where  is  the  sacred  mount,  —  "  Great  Mount," 
Tai  Shan  fu,  —  to  which  come  troops  of  pious  pilgrims  every 
year  to  solicit  joys  of  heaven  and  happy  transmigration  of  their 
souls.  Small  boats,  sampans,  come  crowding  round  our  ship 
to  bring  and  carry  passengers  and  wait  for  jobs  ;  bum-boats, 
with  apples,  grapes,  persimmons,  pears,  dried  fish,  and  sweet 
potatoes,  —  a  trading,  squalling,  jabbering,  motley  mass  ;  then 
come  the  clumsy,  deep,  unpainted  lighters,  pushing  in  among 
and  scattering  the  smaller  boats,  and  taking  off  the  freight. 
Three  thousand  packages  are  taken  out,  —  of  paper,  cotton, 
hardware,  and  various  kinds  of  stuff,  —  not  one  of  which  is 
boxed  in  wood,  but  mostly  in  plaited  mats  and  bales  of  rattan- 
work  and  in  coarse  hemp  or  cotton  covers.  Lumber  is  scarce 
and  dear  in  these  parts,  and  boxes,  such  as  other  nations  use  to 
ship  their  goods  in,  are  an  unknown  luxury. 

Monday  dawns  clear  and  bright,  and  at  ten  o'clock,  out- 
side the  Taku  bar,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Pei  Ho,  which  flows 
down  past  Pekin,  we  drop  our  anchor  and  discharge  our  coolie 
crowd  of  seven-score  Shanghai  ragamuffins,  brought  up  for  fire- 
men for  the  new  Chinese  men-of-war  just  arrived  from  Germany. 
Somehow,  we  don't  know  how,  these  German  diplomats  are 
beating  all  the  rest  in  supplying  these  Oriental  lands  with  iron- 
clads and  heavy  arms.  England  has  monopolized  this  sort  of 
thing  for  many  years,  and  now,  to  her  great  chagrin,  comes  Ger- 
man skill  to  take  the  palm.  America  should  have  a  hand  in 
this  ;  but  having  handicapped  herself  with  much  protection,  has 
to  take  a  far-back  seat  and  watches  the  ships  of  other  nations 
swarming  on  the  seas,  with  scarce  a  hull  afloat  to  bear  her  name 
or  flag  in  all  this  teeming,  Oriental  trade.  And  on  this  back  seat 
America  must  sit  and  wait,  sending  her  goods  in  foreign  bot- 
toms, under  foreign  flags,  until  her  Congress  makes  it  possible 
for  our  capital  to  buy  or  build  our  ships  wherever  it  can  buy  or 
build  to  best  advantage. 

From  ten  o'clock  till  night,  this  bright  October  day,  we  sit 
here  on  the  sunny  deck,  watching  the  tawny  coolies  lighten  the 
ship  of  freight,  that  it  may  pass  the  shallow  Taku  bar  and  then 
go  on  its  way  to  Tientsin,  the  last  port  this  side  the  capital. 
The  cargo  is  of  brick  tea,  —  a  low-grade  tea  that  is  pressed  into 
bricks  or  plugs,  like  plugs  of  tobacco.     Forty-four  make  a  pack- 


CHINA.  %-] 

age  of  about  six-score  pounds'  weight,  securely  cased  in  rattan 
matting,  hooped  about  with  many  heavy,  fibrous,  bamboo  straps. 
These  are  sHd  from  the  ship  into  large  lighters,  not  unlike  a 
river  wheat  barge.  To  keep  the  count,  a  bamboo  counting- 
stick  is  run  into  each  case  as  it  passes  from  the  ship,  to  be  pulled 
out  the  next  instant  by  the  tally  clerk  before  dropping  into  the 
lighter.  These  counters  are  dropped  on  end,  in  packages  of 
five,  into  a  rack  that  has  twenty  meshes.  Soon  as  a  box  is  full 
of  sticks,  the  hundred  are  passed  inside  and  tallied  off.  So  it 
takes  three  men  to  count  the  packages  for  each  coolie  squad. 

This  tea  goes  on  by  cart  and  then  by  camel  caravan,  by 
sledges  and  then  by  river  boat,  over  hill  and  dale,  mountain  and 
steppe,  day  after  day  and  month  after  month,  slowly  working  its 
way  along,  reaching  its  Siberian  destination  in  a  year  or  more. 
Among  the  nomad  tribes  to  which  it  goes  it  is  the  common  cur- 
rency, and  they  have  no  other.  Horses,  camels,  wives,  and 
other  articles  of  traffic,  are  bought  or  sold  for  so  many  bricks  of 
tea,  as  pelts  among  some  Indian  tribes.  So  all  day  long  the 
merry  coolies  work  and  sing  their  working  song,  intoning  a  pe- 
culiar air  with  every  case  of  brick  they  lift  and  slide  away,  —  a 
happy,  careless  lot,  who  board  and  clothe  themselves  at  twenty 
cents  a  day. 

Taku  bar  caught  and  held  us  fast;  but  the  morning  tide 
floated  us  off,  and  away  we  steamed  up  the  Pei  Ho,  a  narrow, 
muddy,  very  crooked  stream,  in  which  our  long  sea  boat  had 
too  little  working  room  and  often  gored  the  banks.  The  river 
has  an  average  Avidth  of  three  hundred  feet ;  and  to  one  gliding 
along  and  observing  from  a  high  deck,  the  impression  is  rather 
curious,  as  if  one  were  going  out  among  broad  fields  of  newly 
ploughed  lands,  turnip  and  cabbage  crops,  among  houses  and 
people,  among  the  fishers  at  their  nets,  fruit-trees  and  villages, 
on  a  steamer,  —  going  afield  in  a  ship  ;  seeing  the  ploughmen 
with  their  little  donkey-teams,  the  men  at  shadhoofs,  lifting  water 
as  from  a  well  to  irrigate  their  second  crop  of  garden  truck ; 
among  the  mounded  graves,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  cocks 
of  hay  well  scattered  through  the  far-stretching  fields ;  among 
the  trees  of  willow  and  ailantus,  with  here  and  there  a  syca- 
more and  chestnut,  —  a  really  unique  and  imperial  way  of  mak- 
ing an  excursion  into  the  country  afloat.  Till  noon  our  steamer 
wandered  in  this  field,  and  made  its  sixty  miles  to  accomplish 


88  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

a  land  distance  of  thirty  from  Taku  bar  to  Tientsin,  the  end  of 
steamer  traffic  and  of  the  Grand  Canal,  a  large  and  bustling 
place,  the  entrepot  for  the  great  mass  of  northern  China  goods. 

•  •■•••■ 

By  Yellow  Sea,  Pel  Ho  River,  and  mule-cart,  eight  hundred 
miles  away  to  the  northward  from  Shanghai  finds  us  at  Pekin, 
the  imperial  city  of  all  the  Chinas,  —  the  best  walled  and 
dirtiest,  the  most  interesting  in  its  faded  greatness,  the  most 
dilapidated  as  to  its  sometime  improvements,  in  all  the  Asiatic 
land.  From  Tientsin,  the  head  of  ocean  navigation  on  the  Pei 
Ho,  you  may  come  two  ways  :  by  house-boat  on  the  Pei  Ho  up 
to  Tung  Chow,  then  by  cart  or  sedan  chair,  or  litter  suspended 
on  poles  between  two  tandem  ponies,  fifteen  miles,  —  a  trip  of 
three  or  five  days ;  or  you  may  make  the  eighty  miles  in  eight- 
and-forty  hours  by  covered  cart.  Take  your  choice.  Seeking 
the  best  way  to  do  it,  some  said,  Take  the  river,  as  the  easiest 
way.  Hire  your  boat  to  come  by  sail  or  tracking,  as  wind  may 
favor  or  not,  lay  in  your  store  of  canned  provisions,  for  Chinese 
"  chow  "  you  will  not  care  to  eat,  put  in  your  mattresses  and 
blankets,  and  sail  away.  Others  said,  You  can  go  by  cart. 
The  road  is  simply  awful,  the  ruts  and  drifting  dust  are  some- 
thing frightful,  the  general  shaking  up  and  lodging  at  Chinese 
wayside  inns  are  most  annoying ;  but  take  your  guide,  your 
bedding,  and  provisions,  go  your  ways,  and  the  Lord  have 
mercy  on  your  bones  and  grant  you  patience. 

Counting  the  time  and  trouble  of  both  ways  to  the  imperial 
city,  we  decided  to  economize  the  first  and  run  the  chances  on 
the  rest.  At  six  in  the  morning,  after  a  hasty  breakfast  eaten  by 
candle-light,  while  our  guide,  Yu  Che,  was  piling  in  our  things, 
we  climbed  into  our  carts  and  tried  to  squat  upon  our  mattresses. 
It  would  n't  work.  You  can't  mobilize  your  knee-joints,  hips,  and 
shanks  quite  so  quickly  as  that  at  two-score  years  and  twelve  ;  , 
so  down  we  went  as  if  upon  the  floor,  pushing  our  feet  across 
the  whiffle-tree,  pulled  up  our  rugs,  and  gave  the  word  to  go. 
With  two  tandem  mule-carts,  drivers,  and  our  guide,  we  rattled 
over  the  narrow,  stony  street  before  the  break  of  day.  Through 
the  streets,  along  the  miles  of  low-eaved,  huddled  shops ;  along 
the  quays,  with  close-packed  river  boats  ;  between  the  dingy 
mud  walls,  past  mountains  of  piled-up  salt ;  jolting  over  long- 
neglected  dikes  and  tottering  bridges ;  along  through  crowds  of 


CHINA.  89 

market-men  and  coolies,  chewing  their  morning  meal  in  clus- 
tered groups  about  the  wayside  chow-shops ;  out  past  the  huts 
and  odors,  into  the  open  country  air.  Thank  God  for  country 
fields,  and  trees,  and  fresh,  crisp,  open  air  !  Good-by  to  jostle, 
smells,  and  mangy  dogs,  to  bruit  and  brawl,  and  rags  and 
tangled  hair ;  good-by  to  offal,  filth,  and  noisome  fumes ;  good- 
by  to  everything  but  rumble,  rolling,  and  ever-present  jolts  and 
jars.     We  are  off  to  Pekin  in  the  north,  just  eighty  miles  away. 

We  made  it.     Over  the  miserable  roads,  rutted  and  some- 
times sandy,  we  bumped  and  rode  and  walked  by  turns  ;  never 
a  stone  or  stump,  never  out  of  sight  of  graves  and  graves  and 
graves  ;  past  fenceless,  stoneless,  almost  treeless  farms  ;  through 
villages  of  mud  and  walls  of  tile  and  thatch ;  past  men  afoot 
and  men  afield  ;  past  ploughmen,  pedlers,  and  women  turning  at 
the  mill ;  skirting  the  dikes  and  cabbage-fields ;  pushing  along 
at  walk  or  trudging  trot  over  the  never-repaired  millennial  road 
that  leads  on  to  Pekin,  home  of  the  Tartar  and  Chinese,  —  to 
the  long-famed  central  city  of  the  flowery  middle  kingdom. 
Twice  at  mid-day  and  once  at  night  we  halted  for  refreshment 
and  sleep.     These  Chinese  taverns  are  of  the  lowest  grade  of 
entertainment,  —  dusty  and  cold,  reeking  with  dirt  and  filth. 
Coming  to  one  along  the  streets,  our  tandem  donkey-carts  pass 
within  the  low-browed  gate  into  a  spacious,  dirty  court,  filled 
with  carts,  donkeys,  and  mules,  surrounded  by  low,  one-storied 
lodging-rooms.     Within  the  court  the  animals  take  their  chow 
from  raised  troughs  ;  within  the  dirty,  brick-floored  rooms  coohe 
and  traveller  betake  themselves  to  eat  what  they  may  bring  along 
or  buy.    Fresh  eggs  we  found  in  plenty ;  also  roasted  chestnuts, 
soft,  golden  persimmons  shaped  like  large  tomatoes,  and  once 
we  got  some  grapes.     At  night  we  spread  our  blankets  on  a 
cold  brick  bed  to  try  to  sleep.     These  brick  beds,  or  kangs,  are 
elevated  about  two  feet,  have  flues  within  where  in  winter  time 
fires  are  kindled  to  warm  the  brick,  on  which  travellers,  or  fam- 
ilies regardless  of  age  or  sex,  pack  themselves  like  sardines  in  a 
box,  with  such  bedding  as  they  may  bring  along.     The  landlord 
provides  no  bedding  but  the  brick,  no  furniture  but  very  dirty 
tables,  and  now  and  then  a  stool  or  chair  for  gingos,  like  our- 
selves.  The  doors  shut  very  loosely,  swinging  on  wooden  pivots  ; 
the  windows  were  of  paper;    the  lights  for  night  a  wick  im- 
mersed in  fatty  oil  within  a  filthy  iron  cup.     But  we  ate  and 


90  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

slept  close  by  the  munching,  kicking,  squealing  mules  and  yelp- 
ing dogs,  and  hourly  watchman's  clacking  sticks  or  grumbling 
gong.  From  nine  till  one  we  made  believe  we  slept.  The  mules 
were  grinding  their  fodder  for  an  early  start,  to  make  the  city 
ere  the  gates  should  close.  At  half-past  one  Yu  Che  came  in  to 
say  we  would  start  at  two.  Bringing  in  some  tea  and  eggs,  we 
ate  our  cold  duck,  bread  and  eggs  and  jam,  strapped  up  our 
bags,  loaded  in  our  beds,  and  amid  the  brawl  of  drivers, 
creaking  wheels,  and  snarling  of  dogs,  thumped  and  bumped 
away,  out  into  the  starlight  and  crisp  country  air,  leaving  a  dollar 
or  two  behind  and  no  regrets. 

How  did  we  like  our  choice  of  travel?  Looking  the  field 
over,  we  concluded  the  road  was  not  as  bad  as  stated,  and  we 
were  glad  we  came  that  way.  We  made  good  time,  rode  in 
comparative  comfort,  gathered  big  bundles  of  experience,  ate 
well,  and  counted  ourselves  fortunate.  So  in  travelling  here  and 
there  you  find  this  much,  at  least,  —  that  things  are  never  quite 
as  bad  nor  quite  as  good  as  represented.  The  Devil,  they  say, 
is  not  so  black  as  he  is  painted ;  and  in  the  New  Jerusalem  that 
you  sometimes  hear  about  there  may  be  fewer  golden  streets 
and  less  of  diamond  door-knobs  than  theological  jewellers  have 
vouched  for. 

As  the  second  day  advanced  and  the  imperial  way  became 
broader  and  meaner  than  before,  the  battlemented  walls  of  Pekin 
came  in  view.  Drawing  near  the  southern  gate,  the  rutted, 
dusky  road  became  a  broad-laid  granite  pavement,  —  a  worn- 
out,  topsy-turvy  affair,  that  some  two  hundred  years  ago  was 
doubtless  a  noble  work,  but  is  now  a  perfect  wreck.  Worn  out 
and  deeply  rutted  by  the  wheels  of  carts  and  those  of  time, 
whole  slabs  gone,  and  others  mostly  so  or  badly  tilted,  we 
banged  and  bumped  across  the  humps  and  hollows,  past  the 
prodigious,  heavy,  and  rusty  iron-hinged  armored  gates,  into 
the  Chinese  city.  Then  over  disjointed  blocks,  through  closely 
packed  and  long  and  narrow  streets,  —  so  narrow  that  no  two 
donkey-carts  yet  built  could  meet  and  pass,  —  over  humps  and 
through  deep  ruts  and  thronging  crowds  of  people  and  dogs, 
carts,  chairs,  and  ISIongol  camels,  we  worked  our  interesting 
way  to  the  great  and  double-gated  portal  of  the  Tartar  city,  with 
its  granite  pavements  worn  into  a  rage  of  rut  and  roughness 
almost  past  belief.     But  it  is  the  custom  of  the  country  to  make 


\ 


CHINA.  91 

roads  but  once  in  four  hundred  years,  and  to  use  strong  granite 
pavement  to  obviate  frequent  repairs.  If  ruts  and  rents  and  holes 
appear  in  lesser  time,  then  must  the  people  make  their  wheels 
and  axles  strong  enough  to  stand  the  shock.  Now  past  yet 
thicker  armored  gates,  underneath  the  raised  portcullis,  under 
the  lofty  watch-towers  that  stand  aloft  above  the  wall ;  then 
through  another  yawning-gated  chasm,  over  more  outrageous 
pavement,  we  came  within  the  town,  and  ere  long  stopped  be- 
fore the  outer  wall  and  gate  of  the  last  alleged  European  hotel 
between  Tientsin  and  the  North  Pole,  —  a  cold,  damp,  uninvit- 
ing den  close  bv  the  citv  wall. 

And  this  was  Pekin,  "northern  capital,"  imperial  city  of  the 
greatest  empire  of  the  world  !  Noisome,  dilapidated,  foul ! 
This  the  city  of  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  aged  beyond  all  valid 
record  ;  walled  and  inter-walled  with  untold  work  and  strength  ; 
centre  of  four  hundred  million  men ;  gated  and  towered  and 
templed ;  granite  and  marble  bridged ;  home  of  the  first  type- 
printed  newspaper  ;  seat  through  the  centuries  and  ages  of  pride 
and  pomp  and  power,  —  and  yet  a  shabby,  worn-out,  unkempt, 
reeking  wreck  !  Tired  and  dirty  beyond  expression,  we  bathed 
and  ate  and  slept,  —  slept  by  a  New  York  stove  and  hard  coal 
fire  far  into  the  morning,  —  then  went  to  the  legation. 

Colonel  Denby,  with  whom  we  had  made  the  voyage  from 
America  in  August,  gave  us  a  warm  greeting,  —  he  and  his  wife 
and  family,  —  and  with  a  generous  hospitality  which  marks  such 
worthy  people,  they  made  their  house  our  comfortable  home, 
and  our  stay  most  pleasant  and  instructive. 

Of  foreigners  in  Pekin  there  are  about  one  hundred  and  fifty, 
diplomatists,  customs-men,  missionaries,  merchants,  —  of  the 
latter  class  but  two.  All  these  reside  in  "  compounds,"  —  the 
same  being  a  large  or  small  tract  enclosed  by  a  high  brick  wall. 
Within  are  dwellings,  offices,  schools,  stores,  servants'  quarters, 
stables,  and  so  forth.  Our  compound  is  rather  small,  —  some 
three  hundred  feet  square,  —  while  that  of  the  British  legation 
has  some  six  acres.  Here  are  the  several  offices,  the  ministerial 
residence,  the  dwellings  of  the  secretaries  and  interpreter,  the 
servants'  quarters,  the  gate-house,  and  the  stables,  with  broad 
brick  walks  and  various  flower-beds  and  shade-trees.  Lawn 
there  is  none  ;  and  with  very  rare  exceptions  do  you  see  a  grass- 
plot  anywhere  within  the  city  walls.     The  native  has  no  use  for 


92  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

such,  preferring  the  naked,  dusty  earth.  Some  legations  have 
a  tennis  court,  where  grass  is  made  to  grow  by  irrigation.  Be- 
yond the  immediate  regions  of  the  native  stores  and  shops  the 
streets  are  fenced  on  either  side  by  high  and  gloomy  compound 
walls,  making  the  prospect  anything  but  pleasant. 

The  streets  are  bad  beyond  polite  description.  Some  day 
long  past  they  were  laid  out  broad,  and  well  bridged,  sewered, 
and  paved  ;  but  as  the  pavements  wore  out  they  seem  never  to 
have  been  replaced.  The  endless  tide  of  travel  wore  out  the 
stone  or  brick,  then  down  into  the  ground  beneath,  down  deeper 
than  the  sewers,  until  nearly  every  street  through  which  you 
pass  is  a  deep  gutter,  lowest  in  the  middle  and  choked  with 
jfinest  dust,  which  the  feet  of  man  or  beast,  or  slightest  puff  of  air 
puts  into  lively  motion ;  and  when  the  wind  really  blows,  as  it 
often  does,  the  atmosphere  is  choked  almost  to  suffocation,  and 
locomotion,  unless  within  a  tightly  closed  cart,  almost  impossible. 
Here  and  there  on  some  main  thoroughfares  the  streets  are  partly 
sprinkled,  —  a  strip  down  through  the  middle.  Street-sprinkhng 
is  curious,  often  odious.  A  two-wheeled  donkey-cart  brings 
large  tubs  ot  water  from  a  pool  or  well,  and  distributes  them 
along  the  dusty  street.  Then  comes  a  coolie,  with  a  wooden 
dipper  on  the  end  of  a  long  handle.  Dipping  out  the  water, 
he  swishes  it  about.  Other  coolies  may  be  seen  dipping  the 
noisome  liquids  from  the  bordering  cesspools  which  front  the 
thickly-planted  houses,  and  with  such  vile  stuff  laying  the  dust 
and  offending  the  foreign  nose  beyond  expression.  How  peo- 
ple live  amid  such  filth  is  marvellous  ;  yet  live  they  do,  and 
seem  to  thrive  upon  it ;  for  you  would  travel  far  before  you  find 
a  better  average  of  physical  development  than  is  found  in 
northern  China.  The  cities  are  filthy  all  alike,  —  this  Tartar 
city  alone  the  only  one  with  wide  and  tree-planted  streets. 
The  habits,  too,  are  very  filthy ;  yet  the  death-rate,  so  far  as 
known,  is  not  greater  than  that  of  places  in  more  cleanly  towns 
of  Europe  and  the  West.  Japan,  with  all  its  cleanly  habits,  its 
perpetual  bathing,  has  been  this  year  more  scourged  with  cholera 
than  China.  Small-pox,  they  say,  is  the  severest  ailment  here  ; 
and  yet  there  is  but  little  indication  of  its  ravages  among  the 
people.  But  reason  as  you  may,  if  cleanliness  is  close  akin  to 
godliness,  and  dirtiness  the  friend  of  deviltry,  then  this  same 
Pekin  city  is  the  farthest  point  from  heaven  on  the  map.     But 


CHINA.  93 

there  is  a  ray  of  hope ;  for  from  a  late  morning  edition  of 
"  Ching  Pau "  we  furnish  this  translation  of  a  much-needed 
imperial  order.     The  Son  of  the  Sun  declares, — 

"The  repairing  of  the  sewers  and  water-courses  in  this  my  royal 
city  of  Pekin  has  been  neglected  for  many  years.  The  sewers  have 
become  stagnant  and  stopped  up.  As  to  how  the  necessary  funds 
are  to  be  derived  yearly  for  their  continual  repairing  and  draining, 
let  the  minister  under  whose  charge  such  work  properly  belongs 
carefully  consider  and  report  to  us.     Obey  this." 

Let  us  hope  he  will,  and  that  at  no  far  distant  day  Pekin 
streets  will  resume  their  former  excellence. 


94  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

CHINA. 

Life  in  Pekin.  —  The  Missionary  Question  again.  —  Two  Sides  of  the 
Case.  — Catholics  at  the  Front.  —  Curiosities  of  Chinese  Journalism. 
—  The  American  Legation  in  Pelvin.  —  Unpalatial  Quarters.  —  Hard- 
ships of  Official  Life.  —  Some  Much-Needed  Reforms. 

IF  I  were  somewhere  else,  it  would  be  Sunday ;  but  here  it  is 
the  25th  moon,  whatever  that  may  be ;  and  these  four 
hundred  and  forty  millions  of  heathen  have  no  more  regard  for 
Sunday  ways  than  has  a  railroad  man.  He  is  up  just  as  early 
as  on  a  week  day  ;  goes  about  his  business  quite  the  same.  No 
end  of  missionaries  have  made  a  stubborn  fight  for  several 
hundred  years,  yet  more  pagans  are  born  every  minute  here 
than  are  converted  to  Christianity  in  a  century.  This  is  a  fact  — 
discouraging  perhaps,  yet  the  work  halts  not ;  more  mission- 
aries come,  more  missions  are  planted,  and  the  fight  of  faith 
and  hope  goes  on. 

The  Catholic  is  chiefest  of  them  all.  He  puts  his  armor  on 
and  marches  forth,  burning  every  bridge  behind  him,  —  live  if 
he  may,  die  if  he  must,  —  counting  massacre  but  martyrdom, 
defying  peril,  clinging  to  his  faith  and  work.  In  Japan  he 
shaves  his  head  and  adopts  the  costume  of  the  land  ;  in  China 
he  partly  shaves  his  head  and  dons  a  false  pig-tail  till  he  can 
grow  a  good  one,  puts  on  the  flowing  Oriental  robe,  shoes  his 
feet  in  Chinese  style,  conquers  the  country's  language  and 
adopts  its  ways,  —  forgetting  all  but  cross  and  crown.  Does 
famine  come,  or  pestilence,  —  he  budges  not  a  step,  but  pur- 
sues his  steady,  tireless,  dangerous  way,  heedless  of  all  but  hope 
and  heaven.  In  Nagasaki,  this  past  season,  raged  the  fell  de- 
mon of  destruction,  cholera.  Of  five  thousand  miners,  two 
thousand  died.  Many  people  fled  in  terror.  I  write  it  as  it  was 
told  me  there  two  weeks  ago  —  and  write  it  sorrowfully,  hoping 
it  is  not  true  —  that  our  Protestant  missionaries  fled  with  the 


CHINA.  95 

frightened  pagans,  seeking  safety  from  the  scourge,  or  staying, 
lent  no  helping  hand.  I  write,  too,  of  the  CathoHc,  as  it  was 
told  me,  and  hoping  it  is  true,  —  that  these  bold  warriors  for  the 
cross  of  Christ  marshalled  their  forces,  and  standing  before  the 
viceroy,  said  :  "  This  is  your  home  and  ours  ;  our  people  die  be- 
neath the  avenging  scourge  ;  your  people  are  our  people ;  may 
our  faith  be  yours.  Take  us  and  use  us ;  we  put  ourselves  in 
your  hands ;  send  us  when  you  will  and  where  you  will ;  among 
the  sick  and  dying ;  into  your  hospitals  or  barracks,  —  where 
you  want  us  most,  we  '11  stand  or  fall  as  heaven  may  decree  !  " 
^V"hat  in  all  this  world  could  be  more  truly  noble  ?  The  Cath- 
olic missionary  has  this  field  to  himself  so  far  as  local  senti- 
ment goes,  our  Protestant  informant  said,  —  and  good  reason 
for  it. 

Before  leaving  home  some  one  said  to  me,  "  Try  and  inform 
yourself  about  the  missionary  work  abroad,  and  tell  me  what 
you  find."     This  being  Sunday,  let  us  take  that  matter  up. 

Are  the  missionaries  doing  any  good?  Yes,  everywhere  they 
go.  Whether  they  teach  schools  and  let  theology  alone,  or  are 
medical  missionaries,  ministering  to  the  sick  through  hospitals 
and  dispensaries  ;  whether  they  teach  mathematics,  engineering, 
literature,  law,  or  logic,  —  they  are  doing  good,  putting  good 
tools  into  the  hands  of  such  as  need  them,  sometime  to  make 
a  counting  in  this  teeming,  darkened  land.  Those  who  scatter 
the  knowledge  of  Christian  lands  —  their  virtues,  not  their  vices 
—  sow  good  seed  that  must  yield  good  crops.  Here  in  Pekin, 
so  my  information  is,  our  missionaries  have  quit  teaching  the 
English  language,  for  the  reason  that  as  soon  as  a  mission-taught 
boy  gets  fairly  well  along  he  is  picked  up  for  commercial  needs. 
Surely  he  has  been  made  a  better  and  more  useful  man,  but  in 
a  theological  view  his  learning  is  counted  lost ;  so  now,  I  'm 
told,  the  missionary  teaches  only  in  Chinese.  Being  so  taught, 
they  are  of  no  use  in  business  ways,  but  they  may  with  more 
certainty,  if  thoroughly  converted,  be  counted  on  for  future 
Christian  work.  This  may  be  best  in  a  purely  theological  sense, 
but  in  a  general  way  it  seems  too  short-sighted. 

How  are  missionaries  situated  in  a  worldly  point  of  view? 
No  people  out  here  have  better  homes  or  lead  an  easier  life. 
Go  where  you  will  to  any  mission-point,  and  it  is  quite  safe  to 
say  that  you  will  find  that  this  class  have  the  best  of  houses 


96  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  live  in  luxury.  In  matters  of  houses,  grounds,  furniture, 
servants,  and  general  outfit,  no  foreign  class  residing  in  the  East 
are  better  supplied,  and  do  so  little  work.  As  to  the  homes  so 
spoken  of,  that  is  what  I  see ;  as  to  the  labor,  that  is  what  I 
hear,  and  hear  on  every  hand.     Personally  I  know  not. 

Well,  now,  what  of  it  ?  That  they  should  have  bright  homes 
—  the  best  of  houses  in  their  towns,  fine  homes  and  furnish- 
ing, and  servants  in  abundance  —  why  not  ?  If  any  church  or 
board  should  send  me  here  to  preach  and  teach,  I  'd  want  no 
poorer  mansion  than  I  'd  leave  behind.  Good  living  and  good 
appearance  is  a  lesson  of  salvation  in  itself;  and  how  could 
missionaries  so  thoroughly  impress  these  mud-house  pagans  as 
by  showing  them  how  well-to-do  Christian  people  can  surround 
themselves  with  desirable  effects,  —  with  wholesome  shelter,  with 
furniture  and  pictures,  servants,  too,  and  curios?  And  has  a 
missionary  not  as  good  a  right  to  live  in  as  good  a  house  as  a 
merchant  ?  Is  not  the  spread  of  gospel  light  and  love  quite  as 
deserving  of  home  tastes  and  luxuries  as  dealing  in  tea  and  silk 
and  opium? 

What  we  should  say,  if  urged  to  do  so  to  these  good  mission- 
aries, is  this  :  When  you  come  home  to  tell  us  of  your  work, 
and  visit  friends,  don't  mention  your  priv^ations,  remembering 
all  the  while  that  you  are,  as  a  body,  better  fixed  than  a  majority 
of  those  at  home  who  pay  to  keep  you  here,  —  better  housed 
and  fed  than  are  the  merchant  class.  Place  not  so  much  stress 
on  being  separated  from  home  and  ties,  and  childhood  scenes 
and  friends,  remembering  the  modest  fact  that  the  average  mis- 
sionary in  the  cities  here  is  so  from  physical  choice,  and  prob- 
ably in  better  circumstances  in  worldly  point  of  view  than  he 
would  be  at  home.  That  they  are  so,  I  am  glad.  That  our 
average  mission  folks  would  stay  here  on  a  level  with  the  poor 
heathen  riff-raff  whom  they  seek  to  convert,  we  do  not  believe, 
and  find  no  grounds  for  such  belief.  Missionaries  who  work 
have  a  right  to  good  things  even  in  this  bright  and  lovely  world  ; 
and  it  is  a  pleasure  I  have  often  had  to  see  them  happily  return- 
ing to  their  far-off  homes  and  fields,  willingly  and  glad-hearted. 
Their  foreign  living  and  display  will  help  the  world  along.  Bad 
ones  there  are  among  them,  —  men  who  only  lightly  wear  the 
cloak,  and  turn  their  thoughts  on  gain,  and  so  create  a  scan- 
dal among  both  saints  and  sinners ;  but  in  the  language  of  a 


CHINA.  97 

missionary  acquaintance,  let  us  say,  ''  All  shepherds  find  black 
sheep  among  their  flocks." 

How  are  missionaries  regarded  among  other  foreign  residents  ? 
Too  often  with  derision.  Ask  whom  you  may  at  Tokio,  at  Yo- 
kohama, Kobe,  Nagasaki,  Shanghai,  ask  of  merchants,  mariners, 
men  of  the  civil  service  of  all  nations,  and  all  too  rarely  you 
will  find  a  man  or  woman  who  has  a  kind  word  for  the  mission- 
ary class.  They  call  them  drones  and  hypocrites,  who  make  a 
fat  living  and  pass  easy  lives  by  grace  of  friends  and  boards  at 
home.  This  is  often  shocking,  and  I  might  write  pages  of  these 
reports  as  to  how  these  missionary  folk  disport  themselves  in 
this  place  and  that ;  but  will  not,  for  many  of  these  things  are 
almost  past  belief  Asking  a  mission  man  one  day  why  it  was 
that  there  was  not  more  amity  and  communion  between  them 
and  the  Protestant  merchant  and  civil  service  class,  he  said  it 
was  mainly  because  missionary  teachings  contravened  the  plans 
and  pleasures  of  these  business  people.  The  missionary,  he 
said,  declared  for  the  Sabbath  —  the  other  did  n't,  to  any  great 
extent.  The  missionary  spoke  for  virtue  and  social  purity ; 
this  other  class  too  often  went  strange  ways  ;  and  so  the  line  of 
difference  between  the  two  has  become  so  well  defined,  the 
wall  of  separation  built  so  high,  that  no  good- will  was  borne 
toward  the  missionary. 

Which  is  right  and  which  is  wrong,  let  them  decide  among 
themselves.  ^^■  hat  real  reason  should  exist  for  these  statements  on 
either  side,  we  have  been  here  too  short  a  time  to  ascertain.  In 
a  general  way  of  thinking,  it  would  seem  that  one  class  should  be 
a  real  benefit  and  support  to  the  other ;  the  missionary  who  lives 
up  to  his  profession  must  surely  help  to  widen  the  field  of  com- 
merce and  help  open  up  new  fields  for  commercial  enterprise. 

Looking  the  missionary  condition  over,  as  far  as  I  have  been 
able  to  gain  information,  it  seems  that  they  are  having  a  rather 
easy  and  comfortable  time  of  it,  being  better  housed  and  better 
paid  than  any  other  class  abroad.  I  had  formerly  pitied  them 
in  their  reputed  isolation  and  poverty ;  but  all  that  has  passed, 
and  in  future,  when  in  mission  meetings  you  hear  that  plaintive 

verse  — 

"Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 
All  to  leave  and  follow  Thee, 
Naked,  poor,  despised,  forsaken  — 
Thou  from  hence  my  all  shall  be," 
7 


98  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

you  may  safely  drop  out  all  of  the  third  line,  and  make  a  liberal 
discount  on  the  second  and  fourth. 

The  best  thing  I  have  seen  in  the  missionary  way  among  our 
people  is  Dr.  Atterbury's  hospital,  dispensary,  and  medical 
school,  here  in  Pekin.  This  bright  young  man,  who  could 
make  himself  popular  and  prosperous  in  any  city,  has  come 
here  for  the  very  love  of  the  thing  and  the  compassion  and  duty 
he  feels  toward  the  poor  sufferers  here,  and  has  made  his  plant, 
and  aided  by  a  near  relative  in  New  York,  is  a  ministering 
angel  to  thousands  of  poor  wretches  who,  without  this  aid,  could 
not  be  free  from  pain  and  misery.  These  are  treated  and  the 
others  are  educated  without  money  or  price  ;  and  a  most  noble 
work  it  is,  for  he  who  ably  ministers  to  the  ills  of  physical  nature 
plants  flowers  of  joy  and  hope  in  otherwise  dark  and  dreary 
places.  "  For  I  was  sick,  and  ye  ministered  unto  me,"  touches 
the  case  of  Dr.  Atterbury  closely.  He  has  just  returned  from  a 
visit  home,  and  comes  prepared  to  build  a  larger  hospital  and 
increase  his  field  of  glorious  usefulness. 

At  St.  Joseph's  cathedral,  which  we  visited  yesterday,  we 
found  some  fine  improvements,  —  a  large  church  edifice,  fine 
old  and  modern  library,  a  museum  of  minerals,  stuffed  animals 
and  birds  and  butterflies.  Two  of  the  mission  men  were  pleased 
to  show  us  much  friendly  attention.  Before  the  altar  rail  were 
Chinese  at  their  devotions  ;  others  we  noticed  coming  and  going 
in  ways  devout,  old  people  and  young,  such  as  you  would 
see  in  similar  places  anywhere.  The  Catholic  missionary  has 
been  a  long  time  here,  and  granting  that  most  of  their  acces- 
sions are  only  from  foundling  infants,  brought  up  in  the  faith, 
they  might  have,  and  probably  do  have,  many  thousand  firm 
adherents.  They  have  this  cathedral  church  and  two  other 
commodious  churches  here,  a  nunnery,  and  several  schools. 
It  is  said  they  came  near  making  a  convert  of  the  Emperor,  and 
so  gaining  the  entire  empire  ;  but  some  misunderstanding  arose 
about  the  details,  and  Buddha  kept  his  sway.  Yet  the  Catholic 
makes  no  note  of  time  ;  men  come  and  go ;  battles  are  won 
and  lost ;  nations  and  thrones  may  rise  and  fall ;  yet  through  all 
the  din  and  dust,  the  smoke  and  clouds,  rising  grandly  above  it 
all  is  the  glorious  dome  of  great  St.  Peter's  Church,  bearing 
the  never-changing  globe  and  cross.  To-day  some  work  may 
fail,  to-morrow  it  proceeds  as  though  no  lapse  had  happened,  — 


CHINA.  99 

a  firm  and  steady  flow  of  patient,  sleepless  power  that  knows  no 
blight  and  no  discouragement.  Could  Protestantism  find  a  way 
to  join  its  scattered  forces  thus  beneath  one  dome  and  flag,  far 
greater  would  its  progress  be  in  these  and  other  lands.  Strong 
unity  beneath  a  never-dying  generalship  can  conquo*  what  it 
will. 

•  •••••• 

Before  me  is  a  fresh  copy  of  the  Pekin  Gazette.  That  is 
to  say,  it  looks  fresh,  yet  I  have  had  no  time  as  yet  to  read  it. 
Gazette  is  its  foreign  name  —  not  its  real  name  at  all.  It  is  a 
brochure,  in  yellow  paper  covers.  Yellow  is  the  imperial  color 
in  China.  On  the  left-hand  upper  corner  of  the  last  cover  are 
two  tea-chest  hieroglyphics,  one  below  the  other.  Translated 
into  your  understanding,  they  read,  "  Capital  Sheet."  In  the 
Chinese  language  they  say  "  Ching  Pau."  Ching  Pau,  then,  is 
the  real  name  of  this  yellow-crusted  daily,  —  the  oldest  news- 
paper of  the  world  !  It  has  twenty  leaves  of  printed  matter  — 
each  leaf  four  by  eight  inches  —  printed  in  perpendicular  lines 
in  black  letters  between  column  lines  in  carmine.  You  read  — 
provided  you  read  Chinese  at  all  —  from  top  to  bottom,  from 
right-hand  side  to  left ;  so  when  vou  have  read  from  the  last 
page  to  the  first  backwards,  you  will  be  through.  The  printed 
pages  are  very  thin,  a  tough,  tawny  tissue-paper.  The  stitch- 
ing through  the  back  is  done  with  paper  thread,  —  a  strip  of 
paper  twisted.  The  number  of  printed  leaves  —  they  are  printed 
on  one  side  only  —  varies  according  to  amount  of  copy  fur- 
nished. Some  have  only  eight  or  ten  leaves,  others  twenty  or 
more.  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  you  get  your  paper  de- 
livered on  the  day  of  its  publication.  They  are  in  no  hurry, 
and  you  may  not  get  your  Sunday  paper  till  Wednesday,  and 
when  you  do  get  it  you  may  find  it  a  month  old.  Having  full 
monopoly  they  can  take  their  time  ;  besides,  in  engraving  the 
blocks  or  setting  the  movable  wooden  type  on  which  it  is  printed 
now  as  of  yore,  one  man  is  allowed  to  do  only  so  much  work ; 
for  if  one  be  expert  and  can  do  twice  as  much  as  another,  he 
must  not  do  it,  as  that  would  be  doing  another  man's  work  and 
so  appropriating  another  man's  bread.  The  press-work  is  done 
by  hand,  by  brushing  the  form  with  ink,  and  then  pressing  the 
paper  upon  it  with  the  palm  of  the  hand,  — a  sufficient  number 
of  men  being  employed  to  do  the  work ;  besides,  as  stated,  it  is 
not  necessary  that  the  edition  should  appear  on  the  day  of  its 


lOO  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

date.  The  Chinese  newspapers  at  other  points  use  metal  type, 
and  print  on  machine  presses.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  no 
less  true,  that  in  printed  book  and  small  job  work  the  cost  of 
doing  it  on  engraved  blocks  or  pages  is  less  than  upon  movable 
type  and  printed  by  machinery.  They  are  rapid  engravers, 
these  Chinese,  and  turn  out  work  faster  than  you  would  think ; 
and  no  matter  how  large  your  edition  may  be,  you  can  have  the 
copies  made  ten  or  a  hundred  at  a  time,  at  the  same  cost  as 
though  you  ordered  a  thousand  copies  at  once.  This  is  advan- 
tageous in  matter  of  paper  and  ink  stock  involved ;  as  also  in 
the  results,  for  if  you  find  your  book  is  not  salable  there  is 
no  waste  of  material  beyond  the  wooden  blocks,  which  cost  only 
a  "  cash  "  or  mill  per  character.  Besides,  you  have  a  constant 
opportunity  for  making  corrections  in  the  next  batch,  —  a  privi- 
lege that  not  a  few  authors  would  like  to  have  after  once  having 
read  their  own  books  in  print. 

The  "  Ching  Pau  "  is  a  daily  paper,  issued  twice  or  thrice  a 
day.  The  first  edition  is  in  yellow,  contains  court  news,  and  tells 
the  doings  of  the  Emperor.  To-day,  this  fifth  day  of  the  2  6tli 
moon,  or  fifth  moon  of  the  25th  day,  it  doesn't  matter  which, 
His  Royal  Eminence  has  donned  his  wolf-skin  cuffs  !  It  is  get- 
ting cold  up  here.  So  all  China  dons  cuffs.  To-day,  again,  he 
has  been  pleased  to  put  on  his  fur-lined  cloak.  Hence  all  good 
Chinamen  rush  to  their  pawnbrokers,  get  out  their  winter  furs, 
pawn  their  summer  raiment,  pay  differences,  and  cover  their 
backs  with  fur.  Once  more  :  this  son  of  the  sun  and  brother 
of  the  moon  has  mounted  his  fur  cap.  All  China  says.  Amen  ! 
and  is  at  liberty  to  thatch  its  shaven  pate  with  fur.  Farther  on 
we  read  about  the  state  of  his  royal  health.  Tlien  other  news 
of  crown  and  court ;  orders  in  regal  council  and  such  grave 
matters  of  state  as  China  seems  to  need,  but  which  you  may  not 
care  to  know.  This  edition  comes  out  early,  —  the  royal  man- 
darins having  met  in  early  session,  even  as  they  do  every  night 
in  the  year,  —  one  o'clock  a.  m.  How  long,  think  you,  the 
Queen  would  live,  or  even  our  worthy  President,  should  they 
inaugurate  the  nightly  habit  of  calling  in  their  cabinets  at  such 
a  sleepy  hour  ?  But  that 's  the  Chinese  way,  and  be  not  so  sure 
that  it  is  not  the  very  thing.  It  inculcates  early  bedtime  hours, 
and  is  it  not  very  plainly  written  in  our  proverbs,  — 

"  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise 
Makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise  "  ? 


CHINA.  1 01 

This  early  morning  edition  of  the  "  Ching  Pau  "  is  said  to 
number  eight  thousand.  That  seems  little  enough,  as  it  is  the 
only  newspaper  of  any  sort  printed  north  of  Shanghai  or  for  a 
distance  of  eight  hundred  miles  around,  and  has  the  advantage 
of  every  mail,  express,  and  news-dealer  in  all  that  broad  circle 
populated  by  nearly  a  hundred  million  people.  The  rate  per 
day,  delivered  by  carrier  at  Pekin  points,  is  one  cent.  Eight 
thousand  cents  !  Subtract  the  exchange  and  deadhead  list,  the 
expense  of  paper,  press-work,  editing,  telegraph,  and  so  forth, 
and  the  daily  profits  of  the  edition  are  not  burdensome.  The 
second  edition,  also  in  yellow,  comes  out  in  the  forenoon  ;  has 
more  official  news  and  court-fashion  news,  —  a  small  edition. 
The  third  is  in  red  covers,  issued  in  the  evening,  made  up  en- 
tirely of  the  two  pre\ious  editions.  It  circulates  some  fifteen 
hundred  copies,  entirely  in  the  city,  —  the  gates  then  being 
closed. 

The  "  Ching  Pau  "  is  the  oldest  newspaper  in  the  world,  — 
perhaps  the  driest.  There  is  an  editorial  staff,  but  there  are  no 
reporters.  Ambitious  city  editors  need  not  apply,  nor  travelling 
correspondents  who  write  up  country  towns.  There  is  a  tele- 
graph line  to  Pekin,  tariff  two  cents  per  word  per  mile  ;  but  it 
has  no  "  specials,"  nor  yet  associated  press  reports.  There  are 
no  press  associations  here,  and  no  press  rides,  excursions,  pic- 
nics, meetings.  That 's  a  blessing.  It  has  no  city  news,  none 
from  the  country ;  all  comes  from  the  palace  of  the  Emperor. 
There  are  ambitious  merchants  here  and  specialists  and 
theatres  and  festivals  and  confidence  men ;  but  they  don't 
advertise.  —  not  in  the  "  Ching  Pau."  No  "  Wants,"  no 
"  Helps,"  no  "  Births,"  no  "  Deaths,"  no  "  Furnished  Apart- 
ments in  respectable  families,"  nothing  "  Lost,"  nor  "  Found," 
nor  '•'  Personal,"  in  Pekin.  There  is  no  election  news.  No 
one  seems  to  want  to  run  for  viceroy,  the  office  of  tau-ti, 
niafoo,  or  for  ting-chi ;  nor  yet  for  constable  nor  Congress. 
There 's  comfort,  too,  in  that.  Ambitious  men  there  are, 
right  here  in  China;  but  they  keep  their  projects  to  them- 
selves, —  at  least  they  don't  advertise.  One  reason,  maybe,  is 
that  they  don't  elect  officials  here.  The  people  don't  vote  for 
anybody  ;  so  there  's  no  sale  of  votes,  no  bargains  for  appoint- 
ments by  the  throne. 

But  what  does  this  ancient  news-sheet  have  to  read?     What 


I02  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

first  I  told  you,  —  news  of  crown  and  court.  With  this  its  read- 
ers seem  right  well  content.  Do  not  the  courts  of  Europe  do 
the  same,  —  tell  what  their  kings  and  queens  are  doing  every 
day ;  whether  they  walk,  or  ride,  or  drive  ?  These  European 
court  circulars  do  not  monopohze  all  the  newspaper  space  and 
circulation,  as  the  "  Ching  Pau  "  does  in  northern  China,  and 
that  makes  the  difference.  They  have  schools  and  colleges  ; 
many  of  its  adult  people  read  and  write,  —  some  seventy-three 
per  cent ;  only  thirteen  per  cent  less  than  in  the  United  States, 
and  three  per  cent  ahead  of  England,  and  sixty-three  ahead  of 
Mexico,  if  tables  are  of  any  value.  And  if  they  are,  how  does 
the  newspaper  figure  as  a  teacher  of  reading,  simply? 

The  "  Ching  Pau  "  was  started  in  a  small  way  in  the  year 
eight  hundred  and  something  of  our  Christian  era.  The  first 
century's  files  have  been  lost  or  mislaid,  so  we  have  been  unable 
to  fix  the  actual  date.  It  was  first  printed  manually,  but  later 
on,  on  type  ;  and  despite  of  the  peculiarities  of  its  manage- 
ment is  said  to  be  prosperous,  rather  popular,  and  fairly  interest- 
ing, —  the  Nestor  of  the  wide  world's  press  !  I  wanted  to  call 
upon  its  editor  and  see  its  printing  facilities,  tiffin  with  the 
manager,  and  make  a  note  or  two  ;  but  was  told  that  might  not 
be,  —  in  fact,  never  had  been.  The  editor  preserves  as  strict  an 
incognita  as  the  editor  of  the  London  "  Times,"  for  fear,  no 
doubt,  of  consequential  interviews  and  other  troubles.  We 
did  n't  press  our  wish,  respecting  editorial  office  rules.  In 
many  respects  we  like  this  "Ching  Pau"  editor's  arrangement. 
It  leaves  him  his  time  to  read  and  write,  and  saves  him  from 
being  bored  when  he  wants  to  be  at  work. 

The  "  Ching  Pau  "  is  very  old  and  very  respectable,  but  can- 
not boast  of  being  the  first  newspaper  of  the  world,  not  by 
some  fifteen  hundred  years.  The  first,  the  "  Acta  Diurna,"  or 
"  Daily  Doings,"  —  much  such  a  journal  as  is  the  "  Ching  Pau" 
of  Pekin,  with  similar  aims,  and  manually  printed,  —  appeared 
in  Rome  two  thousand  five  hundred  and  forty-six  years  ago  this 
summer ;  and  but  for  some  failure  in  management  —  not  with 
the  paper,  but  among  the  Ccesars  —  would  no  doubt  have  come 
down  to  us  without  a  break.  As  it  is,  this  China  sheet  bears  off 
the  palm,  —  and  it  isn't  nmch  of  a  newspaper,  either.  The 
more  you  read  it  the  less  you  will  know  about  the  great  world's 
doings.     In  the  estimation  of  the  Chinese  Emperor  there  is  no 


CHINA.  103 

place  worth  thinking  of  but  China ;  no  city  worth  his  hving  in 
but  Pekin ;  certainly  no  monarch  so  great  and  good  as  he  ;  no 
paper  so  well  worth  his  royal  subscription  as  this  same  Pekin 
Gazette.  But  should  the  "  Ching  Pau,"  for  even  one  edition, 
forget  to  praise  him,  or  to  give  note  of  his  doings,  great  or 
small,  he  would  have  the  editor  discharged,  —  most  likely  drawn 
and  quartered.  In  this,  the  imperial  power  of  China  is  not  at 
all  singular.  The  commonest  kind  of  office-hunters  have  the 
same  instincts  elsewhere,  and  only  lack  the  power.  At  Shang- 
hai there  is  a  Chinese  daily  or  two,  one  or  two  at  Hong  Kong, 
one,  they  say,  at  Canton.  These  six  are  all,  —  all  the  papers 
printed  for  this  four  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  people  !  How 
they  have  managed  to  get  along  and  live  all  these  several  thou- 
sand years  is  past  the  common  ways  of  comprehension.  That 
it  is  possible  to  have  too  many  of  these  blessings  may  be  ad- 
mitted. The  newer  world  may  have  a  supply  of  papers  beyond 
its  real  needs  ;  this  old  one  has  too  few.  If  a  careful  system  of 
averages  could  be  arranged,  no  doubt  both  hemispheres  would 
gain.  The  "  Acta  Diurna  "  of  Rome,  the  "  Ching  Pau "  of 
China,  the  "  Gazetta  "  of  Venice,  the  "Affiche"  of  France, 
the  "  News  of  the  Present  Week  "  of  London,  and  "  Public 
Occurrences"  of  Boston  (1690),  contained  the  germs  from 
which  sprang  forth  the  newspaper  of  to-day.  The  first  is  sup- 
posed to  have  had  more  length  of  years,  more  publication  days, 
than  any  journal  now  extant,  save  and  except  this  grave  "Ching 
Pau"  of  this  imperial  city  of  the  middle  kingdom,  —  and  this, 
the  oldest  and  second  of  that  noble  enterprise,  the  greatest 
failure ;  for  in  its  millennium  it  should  have  illuminated  China. 
Alas  !  it  has  only  served,  by  its  feeble  and  almost  darkened  ray, 
to  prove  its  country's  degradation.     Hidden  lights  are  worthless. 

Our  minister  here  is  one  of  the  few  who  luxuriate  in  the 
enigmatic  columns  of  this  old  Pekin  paper.  Early  every  day 
his  interpreter  brings  him  a  transcript  of  all  its  important  news, 
and  so  he  is  kept  well  posted  on  the  Chinese  court  events. 

There  are  several  legations  here  in  Pekin,  —  our  own,  the 
British,  French,  German,  Russian,  and  Belgian,  —  all  of  whose 
"  compounds  "  we  have  visited,  and  with  pain  have  to  record  this 
fact :  that  the  American  is  the  smallest,  poorest,  most  ill-provided 
of  them  all.  So  marked  and  plainly  manifest  is  the  difference, 
that  ours  appears  really  mean  and  shabby.     Of  course  we  are  a 


104  "^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

plain  republican  people,  eschewing  the  pomp  and  glare  of  kingly 
courts  ;  but  we  have  a  good  right  to  be  comfortable  and  decent 
in  the  places  where  our  lots  are  cast.  Oriental  people  put 
our  case  in  this  way :  "  America  is  the  richest  and  meanest 
nation  in  the  world."  By  meanest  they  mean  the  stingiest.  In 
making  his  report  of  the  condition  of  the  buildings  in  this  "  com- 
pound," our  late  minister,  Hon.  J.  Russell  Young,  who  preceded 
Col.  Charles  Denby,  said  that  they  were  barns.  They  are  not 
exactly  that,  though  by  comparison  fairly  made  with  the  build- 
ings, rooms,  furnishing,  and  general  outfit  of  the  other  legations, 
the  statement  is  not  at  all  misleading.  The  buildings  are  old 
and  poor  and  out  of  order.  They  never  were  fine,  well-arranged, 
or  spacious ;  and  after  long  service  and  lack  of  repairs,  they 
have  become  what  I  have  already  said  they  are,  —  the  worst 
I  have  seen  anywhere,  whether  of  our  own  or  of  other  nations. 
This  is  not  right.  The  United  States  government  is  abun- 
dantly able  to  house  its  ministers  decently.  The  ministerial 
office  here  and  those  of  the  secretaries  would  be  torn  down 
and  given  away  as  rubbish  and  kindling-wood  in  Washington. 
Officials  there  or  at  other  leading  points  would  not  live  in  such 
barracks,  nor  should  any  respectable  government  expect  its  offi- 
cials to  do  so.  Not  only  are  the  buildings  and  furnishing  dis- 
graceful to  our  land,  but  there  are  no  domestic  accommodations, 
—  not  even  a  cistern  here  to  catch  good  water,  in  a  city  where 
every  drop  has  to  be  bought  from  bucket-carriers,  and  twice 
boiled  and  filtered  before  it  can  be  safely  drunk.  I  have  not 
tasted  water  here  until  it  has  been  cooked,  and  would  not  like 
to  take  the  risk  of  doing  otherwise. 

I  have  travelled  now  and  then,  and  been  at  most  of  our  for- 
eign legations  the  world  over ;  but  never  have  I  seen,  or  im- 
agined possible,  such  a  development  of  positive  discomfort 
as  this.  For  even  as  I  write  these  lines  the  rank  November 
winds  play  mischief  in  the  secretary's  room.  Thrice  have  the 
doors  and  windows  been  forced  open  by  the  breeze.  Through 
countless  cracks  around  shrunken  worn-out  doors  and  windows 
the  wind  and  dust  come  charging  in,  filling  the  room  with  filth. 
And  this  is  the  American  legation  in  the  central  city  of  this 
great  nation  !  How  long  would  Mr.  Bayard  or  any  home  offi- 
cial content  himself  with  such  a  hovel  to  do  his  work  in  ?  Mr. 
Bayard   is   in   no   way   responsible   for   this    dilapidation   and 


CHINA.  105 

discomfort ;  but  he  is  our  Secretary  of  State,  and  ought  to  know 
the  facts.  Colonel  Denby  would  not  thank  me  for  writing  in 
this  way,  for  he  is  disposed  to  make  the  best  of  this  woful  situa- 
tion ;  and  his  ingenious  wife,  well  skilled  in  household  ways, 
goes  about  doing  all  the  good  she  can,  —  getting  things  fixed  up, 
covering  worn-out  crippled  chairs,  arranging  curtains  out  of 
well-worn  stuff,  and  making  the  place  as  comfortable  as  possible. 
Fancy  the  wives  of  our  Washington  officials  tinkering  up  their 
husbands'  offices  to  make  them  barely  comfortable  ! 

More  than  this,  the  official  library  here,  where  the  minister  is 
required  to  become  conversant  with  many  and  varied  points  of 
international  law,  would  disgrace  the  garret  office  of  a  police- 
court  shyster.  Fortunate  it  is,  of  course,  that  ministers  like 
Colonel  Denby  have  great  experience  in  the  law  and  a  great 
fund  of  legal  common-sense,  else  the  case  would  be  worse  even. 
But  with  Colonel  Denby  here,  many  questions  arise  with  which 
the  ablest  legal  practitioners  in  the  States  are  not  on  familiar 
terms,  and  even  at  home  these  gentlemen  of  the  bar  must  have 
large  libraries  for  constant  reference  ;  yet  here  at  this  legation 
all  the  books  of  real  use  could  be  packed  on  one  of  the  rickety 
shelves  of  the  coarse  deal  library  case.  What  is  to  be  done  ? 
Why,  do  the  best  he  can.  If  he  does  n't  know  and  has  no 
books  of  information  as  to  form  or  precedent,  he  must  guess  at 
it,  or  write  or  telegraph  to  ^^'ashington.  This  is  a  shame  ;  but 
so  it  is.  Pekin  is  a  long  way  off,  and  Congress  furnishes  but 
little  means  to  do  these  things,  and  what  is  appropriated  gets 
used  up  at  nearer  points  before  Pekin  can  be  heard  from. 

These  things,  and  such  as  these,  are  not  calculated  to  make 
that  favorable  impression  here  that  ought  to  be  made.  Ameri- 
cans ought  to  be  doing  more  and  making  more  impression  in 
the  East  than  they  are  doing,  and  Congress  should  see  to  it  that 
help  is  given.  We  cannot  afford  to  take  back  seats  in  this  way, 
—  advertise  ourselves  as  mean  and  niggardly,  —  but  should  in  our 
foreign  policy  come  close  up  to  par  with  other  nations  ;  provide 
our  diplomats  with  impressive  surroundings  and  such  working 
tools  as  they  need.  This  would  have  its  effect.  These  people 
are  not  well  impressed  by  mean  display  and  poor  surroundings  ; 
for  by  what  they  see  they  are  often  apt  to  judge.  Adverse  opin- 
ion as  to  our  headquarters  induces  adverse  judgment  as  to  other 
matters  ;  and  this  we  do  not  want. 


I06  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

This  Pekin  mission  is  peculiar.  Our  government  sends  a 
minister  to  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  Rome,  or  other  point,  with 
instructions  to  rent  the  necessary  rooms  or  building  for  the 
accommodation  of  their  office.  Such  instructions  as  to  Pekin 
would  be  nonsense.  There  are  no  rooms  nor  houses  for  rent  in 
Pekin.  The  minister  must  rent  a  "compound,"  within  whose 
walls  are  the  houses,  offices,  servants'  quarters,  stables,  etc. 
This  means  an  army  of  servants.  You  may  say  that  you  will 
not  have  more  servants  than  you  want ;  but  you  must  have 
them.  The  division  of  labor  here  is  very  minute  and  distract- 
ing. You  must  have  a  gate-keeper,  who  will  do  nothing  else  ; 
a  messenger,  who  will  do  nothing  else ;  a  cook  and  assistant, 
who  will  do  nothing  else  ;  table-waiters,  who  will  do  nothing 
else.  Then  come  the  lamp-servant  and  fire-servant,  and  these 
will  do  nothing  else ;  then  "  boys,"  or  body-servants,  one  for 
each  person,  who  will  do  nothing  but  see  to  your  clothes  and 
rooms ;  then  the  minister  must  have  for  his  riding  a  pony  (there 
are  no  horses  here),  and  with  this  pony  a  mafoo,  or  groom,  and 
the  groom  must  have  a  pony ;  and  if  another  pony  has  to  be 
added  for  another  member  of  the  family,  then  a  second  groom 
has  to  be  employed,  and  these  servants  have  to  be  provided 
with  official  suits  twice  a  year.  To  make  a  long  story  short,  a 
ministerial  office  and  family  residence  has  not  less  than  fifteen 
to  twenty  servants  attached  to  the  "compound."  All  these  are 
to  be  paid  and  fed,  and  part  of  them  to  be  clothed. 

But  why  not  get  along  with  fewer  servants  ?  Right  glad  would 
the  minister  and  family  be  to  do  so  ;  but  the  very  nature  of 
affairs  forbids,  and  the  minister  succumbs  to  the  inevitable  and 
stands  the  expense.  True,  the  pay  of  servants  is  less  than  with 
us ;  but  the  wages,  the  perquisites,  and  the  small  amount  of 
service  rendered,  account  for  the  supposed  difference. 

Then  there  is  much  official  calling  to  be  done.  Here  inex- 
orable custom  comes  again  to  the  front.  The  minister  may  pre- 
fer to  walk.  He  must  not.  He  might  like  to  go  with  his  pony 
and  mafoo.  He  must  not.  He  might  choose  to  drive  in  his 
mule-cart.  He  must  not.  He  must  accept  the  inevitable,  —  get 
a  sedan  chair  and  four  stout  coolies  to  carry  him  to  the  place, 
wait  for  him,  and  tote  him  safely  home  again,  at  a  round  expense. 

Then  there  is  entertaining  to  be  done.  Unlike  all  other 
nations,   our  government  provides  no  facilities  for  this,  —  no 


CHINA.  107 

dining-room,  tables,  chairs,  table-ware,  nor  provisions.  But  to 
maintain  the  dignity  of  the  position  and  the  glory  of  the  stars 
and  stripes,  the  minister  must  provide  the  food  and  champagne 
out  of  his  own  purse.  A  smart  sum,  too,  it  costs.  These  ex- 
tra expenses,  for  which  the  British  minister  here  is  provided, 
amount  to  ten  thousand  dollars  annually,  aside  from  rooms  and 
table  equipment.  Champagne?  Yes.  When  the  minister 
goes  to  visit  the  Chinese  officials,  he  is  entertained  in  Chinese 
style.  If  he  visits  the  other  officials,  in  European  style.  The 
drink  is  champagne.  When  Chinese  officials  call,  they  expect 
and  get  champagne,  and  they  like  it  very  much.  You  may  say 
you  would  not  furnish  the  costly  wines,  or  any  wines ;  but  the 
usage  is  inexorable.  You  must  do  as  the  Romans  do.  You 
must  accept  the  official  and  social  code  of  the  post  to  which 
you  are  assigned,  or  some  one  will  be  sent  there  who  will.  The 
result  of  all  this  is  that  the  living  and  entertaining  and  travelling 
expenses  use  up  every  dollar  of  the  salary  as  fast  as  it  is  paid, 
and  the  minister  to  China  enjoys  the  position  of  one  who  gives 
his  time  and  labor  merely  for  his  hving.  He  stays  here  four 
years,  runs  a  servants'  boarding-house,  has  no  end  of  labor  to 
perform,  lives  in  barracks,  and  goes  home  not  one  cent  better 
off"  than  when  he  came. 

To  be  sure,  there  are  hundreds  of  men  ready  to  jump  at  the 
chance  of  coming  here  on  a  twelve  thousand  dollar  salary  ;  but 
for  the  man  with  sufficient  mental  equipment  to  fill  the  place  as 
it  should  be  filled,  to  forward  the  interests  of  our  country  as 
they  should  be  forwarded,  the  compensation  is  much  less  than 
it  should  be.  The  main  trouble  is  that  our  people,  our  Con- 
gress, and  our  Cabinet  know  too  little  of  this  region  and  city, 
and  the  peculiarities  of  the  customs  and  surroundings.  Our 
Congressman  or  our  Cabinet-man  really  knows  as  much  about 
this  place  as  about  a  Mongolian  village  ;  and  even  when  the  mat- 
ter has  been  presented  to  him,  as  time  and  again  it  has  been  and 
will  be,  it  is  passed  by  unheeded,  and  this  is  classed  with  inferior 
missions.  This  is  the  result  of  ignorance.  Men  who  have  to 
do  with  material  machinery  must  know  their  trade.  Men 
charged  with  the  duty  of  managing  the  diplomatic  machinery 
of  a  great  nation  ought,  among  other  requisites,  to  have  some 
personal  knowledge  of  the  lands  in  which  the  machinery  is  to 
be  set  up  and  operated.     The  man  who  never  goes  from  his 


I08  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

house  is  not  much  bigger  than  his  house ;  the  Secretary  of  State 
and  Congressmen  form  no  exception.  To  legislate  well  for  a 
school  district  a  man  should  have  some  local  knowledge  of  it ; 
so,  too,  for  a  county,  state,  or  country.  The  same  rule  applies 
to  a  secretary  of  state,  who,  to  manage  well  the  diplomatic  affairs 
of  foreign  lands,  to  administer  justly  and  advise  skilfully,  ought 
to  have  travelled  f.ir  and  wide  and  studiously. 

Information  as  to  this  great  empire  is  only  in  small  part  to  be 
gained  from  books.  To-day  China  is  on  the  verge  of  a  great 
change.  Daylight  is  dawning.  Vigorous,  far-seeing  men  are 
working  their  way  to  the  front ;  railroads  are  to  be  built,  and 
corporations  and  persons  will  soon  be  on  the  alert  to  figure  in 
these  vast  enterprises.  Our  every  official  here  should  be  of 
vigorous  cast,  zealous  to  promote  the  interests  of  our  land.  If 
America  meets  the  opportunities  now  or  soon  to  be  presented, 
she  will  be  laying  foundations  for  increased  prosperity,  creating 
new  markets  for  her  surplus  manufactures,  extending  her  influ- 
ence and  power  in  prosperous  ways. 

But  a  few  weeks  ago  was  exhibited  before  the  Emperor  and 
the  governing  powers  of  China  a  working  model  of  an  American 
railway  operated  by  clock-work.  The  model  was  one  hundred 
feet  long,  and  comprised  track,  switches,  sidings,  locomotive? 
tender,  baggage,  postal,  express  and  freight  cars,  day  coach  and 
Pullman  car,  —  perfect  in  miniature  equipment.  It  was  operated 
and  explained  by  competent  native  mechanics,  and  met  with 
great  approval.  It  was  the  first  time  these  much-secluded  peo- 
ple had  ever  seen  anything  of  the  sort,  —  their  first  object- 
lesson  in  railroad  matters.  The  Chinese  are  very  impressionable 
people,  —  not  so  much  by  what  you  say  as  by  what  you  do. 
Telling  them  about  railroads  makes  no  impression,  for  they  can- 
not conceive  such  a  thing.  But  shown  in  a  model,  they  under- 
stand what  it  is,  and  fully  grasp  the  idea.  Those  who  have  the 
best  means  of  knowing  say  it  is  highly  probable  that  an  imperial 
order  will  soon  be  issued  for  building  a  line  of  road  in  this  part 
of  China,  and  that  when  once  this  great  ball  is  put  in  motion,  it 
will  roll  on  with  great  force.  Our  minister  to  China  takes  a 
lively  interest  in  this  proposed  enterprise,  and  though  beyond 
the  line  of  strictly  ministerial  duty,  will  most  gladly  extend  to  his 
countrymen  all  the  aid  he  can  in  connection  with  it.  He  is 
regarded  with  favor  by  the  brightest  native  officials  here,  and 


CHINA.  109 

may  be  in  a  position  to  render  important  servace  to  American 
capital  and  labor  in  China.  This  is  very  important,  and  should 
encourage  strong  effort  on  the  part  of  eminent  railroad  men  in 
the  States.  Of  course  England  and  Germany  are  watching  for 
this  same  plum,  and  both  of  these  powers  have  been  doing 
everything  to  impress  these  people  with  an  idea  of  their  great- 
ness and  superiority,  and  have  in  some  measure  succeeded ; 
while  our  own  country  has  been  all  too  lax  and  listless  as  to  its 
material  interests  here.  It  is  time  for  a  change  ;  for  putting  on 
the  harness ;  for  getting  our  legation  here  in  perfect  order 
and  equipment ;  and  to  this  new  field  and  bright  possibilities 
the  attention  of  our  government  and  people  should  be  very 
plainly  called.  "We  are  manufacturing  largely.  We  talk  of  over- 
production, and  declare  —  truly,  no  doubt  —  that  we  are  pre- 
pared to  manufacture  in  six  or  eight  months  all  that  we  can 
market  or  consume  in  twelve ;  that  we  need  a  foreign  market 
for  our  products.  It  is  true  we  do ;  but  how  are  we  to  get  it 
but  by  effort  ?  In  this  the  government  can  give  much  proper 
aid. 


no  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  X. 

CHINA. 

The  Great  Wall  of  China.  — Perilous  Roads  through  Mountain  Gorges. 
—  A  Wonder  of  the  World. —  Other  Chinese  Walls.  — The  Great 
Ming  Tombs.  —  Good-by  to  Pekin.  —  Off  to  the  Southward. —  Down 
Stream  in  a  "House-Boat."  —  A  Chilly  Journey.  —  From  a  River- 
Boat  to  a  Cow-Cart.  —  Discomforts  of  Chinese  Travelling.  —  A  Land 
of  Conservative  Decay.  —  Progressive  Influences.  —  The  Outlook  for 
China. 

OF  course  we  had  to  go  to  the  great  wall  of  China.  China 
abounds  in  great  canals  and  walls.  Her  mural  defences 
are  most  extensiv^  e,  —  walled  country,  walled  cities,  walled  vil- 
lages, walled  palaces  and  temples,  • —  wall  after  wall,  and  wall 
within  wall.  But  grandest  of  all  is  the  great  wall  of  China, 
which  crests  a  long  mountain  range  sometimes  five  thousand 
feet  in  height,  from  Pekin  some  fifty  miles  away.  To  come 
to  Pekin  and  not  go  out  to  the  wall  would  be  unpardonable. 
It  matters  not  that  the  Pekin  wall  is  higher  and  wider,  nor  that 
the  way  is  cold  and  rough  and  often  perilous ;  you  must  go  and 
see  the  great,  great  wall. 

The  road  to  Nan  Kow,  "south  gate,"  was  horrible,  —  the  last 
ten  miles  of  the  first  thirty  made  by  jolting  cart,  a  real  torture. 
We  went  in  carts  —  Pekin  carts, — lumbering,  jolting,  gloomy 
carts,  the  only  spring  their  thick  wooden  axles  —  over  roads 
packed  full  of  bowlders,  —  stones  of  every  size  and  shape, — a 
perfect  bedlam  of  tips  and  tilts,  bumps  and  bruises,  until  human 
flesh  and  bones  rebelled,  and  I  got  out  and  walked  in  self- 
defence.  Nan  Kow  is  in  a  mountain  gorge,  —  the  first  of  the 
watch-tower  stations  in  the  great  cordon  of  defence  against  the 
hated  Tartar.  Nan  Kow  is  a  place  of  taverns,  —  Chinese  inns,  — • 
the  more  so  because  it  is  on  the  great  highway  of  the  caravans 
that  go  and  come  between  Siberia  and  Mongolia  and  China,  — 
those  slowly  moving,  heavily  laden  camels,  mules,  and  donkeys, 
that  bring  the  products  of  the  steppes  and  the  farther  frozen 


CHINA.  1 1  I 

regions  to  the  south,  and  carry  northward  tea  and  rice  and  fabrics. 
It  is  situated  at  the  opening  of  the  great  mountain  gorge,  —  the 
Chinese  Thermopyte,  the  way  of  danger  and  of  toil  that  leads 
up  to  the  wall  and  many  miles  beyond. 

Reaching  Nan  Kow  at  nightfall,  we  found  the  streets  packed 
with  mules  and  people,  not  to  mention  dogs  and  donkeys. 
Turning  into  an  inner  court,  we  found  it  full,  and  left  it.  The 
landlord  of  the  next  inn  demanded  ten  dollars  for  room  to  stay 
one  night.  There  were  six  of  us,  to  be  sure,  not  counting  the 
mules ;  but  we  furnished  our  own  food.  The  third  landlord 
took  us  in  for  less  than  half  that  sum,  —  and  such  a  place  ! 
The  court  was  large,  but  crammed  with  mules  and  donkeys. 
Their  packs  of  tea  were  taken  off  and  stowed  in  piles  and  rows. 
Hundreds  of  mule  and  donkey  jaws  were  munching  coarse-cut 
hay  and  millet-seed ;  drivers  were  hurrying  to  and  fro,  yelling 
their  wants,  and  dodging  kicking  mules ;  dogs  were  yelping, 
bells  were  jingling,  lanterns  flashing  to  and  fro,  —  a  jargon  of 
sounds  and  a  motley  mass  of  people,  animals,  carts,  and  goods. 

Our  room  was  a  large  and  dirty  kaug  opening  upon  this  mule 
yard.  Off  from  it  was  a  smaller  one  where  we  might  sleep. 
Fearing  lest  other  animal  life  than  that  already  mentioned  might 
be  warmed  into  activity,  no  fire  was  ordered  placed  beneath  our 
beds  of  brick ;  but  wrapping  us  in  our  furs  and  blankets,  we 
soon  found  peace  and  rest.  They  get  out  early,  these  mule- 
drivers,  for  by  three  o'clock  the  loading  up  begins,  making 
further  sleep  impossible.  The  men,  the  dogs,  and  donkey  bells 
are  in  a  state  of  frantic  uproar;  and  when  the  sun  came  up  and 
we  had  had  our  chow  and  tea,  the  final  long-eared  squad  had 
passed  the  outer  gate. 

No  more  carts  go  in  this  direction.  The  fifteen  miles  out, 
and  the  thirty  or  so  coming  back,  are  ways  of  tribulation  over 
which  no  wheel  may  roll,  and  only  men  and  beasts  of  surest 
tread  may  safely  pass.  We  took  beasts  of  burden.  The  colo- 
nel bestrode  a  dainty  little  donkey,  gray,  bright  of  eye,  with 
expansive  ear,  and  hardly  three  feet  high  ;  I  chose  a  mule, 
creamy  white,  and  with  a  spacious,  thoughtful  ear. 

From  Nan  Kow  to  the  wall  is  a  continuous  gorge  walled  in  by 
rugged  mountain  steeps,  serrated,  cleft  with  chasms  and  rutted 
with  ravines,  quite  verdureless  at  this  season  of  the  year,  and 
largely  so  at  others.     At  points  where  the  peaks  are  highest 


112  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  the  gap  narrowest  are  walls  and  gates  of  mighty  masonry, 

—  gates  and  crenellated  walls,  and  watch-towers  reached  by 
tiresome  walled-in  steps  that  climb  the  mountain  giddily  to 
reach  its  topmost  crest.  Cyclopean  rocks  and  masonry  of 
giants,  massive  in  height,  of  untold  strength  and  unconquer- 
able thickness ;  wooden  gates,  thickly  mailed  with  iron  plates 
and  bossed  with  countless  clinched  nails,  —  repetition  of  such 
as  these  would  seem  to  have  made  the  pass  impregnable  — 
and  did  make  it  so. 

But  the  road  or  roads,  the  path  and  paths,  the  devious,  dan- 
gerous tracks  through  which  we  picked  our  way  along,  —  these 
were  something  awful.  Imagine  the  deepest,  narrowest,  crook- 
edest  mountain  gorge,  sometimes  a  thousand  feet  wide,  then 
again  a  hundred.  Fill  its  floor  with  granite  bowlders  of  every 
size  and  shape ;  old  arctic  porphyritic  rock  brought  here  and 
dumped  by  icebergs  and  by  glaciers  when  the  earth  was  young, 

—  brought  here  and  left  to  be  ground  and  jammed  about, 
worn  by  resistless  mountain  torrents,  piled  and  crowded  into  rows 
and  heaps,  covering  deep  the  ground  with  their  constant  baffling 
chaos.  That  is  something  like  it.  In  ages  past,  through  this 
the  great  highway  between  the  north  and  south,  a  paved  road 
was  built  with  untold  toil  and  patience.  Great  round  stones 
were  worked  into  line,  their  tops  hewn  off,  the  interspaces  filled  ; 
bridges  were  built,  the  stream  was  walled  out,  a  broad  road  was 
made  from  gate  to  gate  for  carts  and  troops  and  caravans  to 
pass.  But  in  this  nation's  great  decline,  and  by  the  resistless 
rage  of  cumulating  floods,  this  giant  scheme  was  routed.  Most 
of  this  great  work  has  been  torn  up  and  tossed  about  and 
turned  to  chaos.  Only  here  and  there  you  catch  its  thread  and 
see  the  rutted  lines  cut  deep  into  the  traffic-polished  granite  ; 
and  here  and  there  among  the  piled-up  pathless  rocks  you  find 
these  ponderous  rutted  stones  carried  far  out  of  place  by  war- 
ring mountain  floods.  The  noble  road  is  gone.  Except  in 
higher  places  and  near  protected  gates,  no  trace  is  left. 

Up  through  this  tedious  torment  of  a  road  and  path  you  have 
to  pick  your  way.  This  was  the  more  tedious  and  dangerous 
by  reason  of  the  caravans.  For  all  that  day  long  trains  of  laden 
camels,  ponies,  mules,  and  donkeys,  going  up  and  down,  choked 
up  the  passage  more  and  more,  —  not  by  hundreds,  but  by  thou- 
sands, —  working  their  slow  and  cautious-footed  way  along ; 


CHINA.  1 1 3 

Mongolian  dromedaries,  droves  of  black-headed,  fat  Siberian 
sheep,  mules,  donkeys,  and  ponies  j  the  clanking  of  camel 
bells,  tinkling  of  donkey  bells,  ratde  of  bells  on  mules  and 
asses,  the  noise  of  shouting  drivers,  the  grunting  growls  of  cam- 
els, braying  of  mules  and  donkeys,  —  a  general  crush  and  push 
and  clatter  all  the  way  along.  Men  of  various  faces  and  speech, 
goods  of  many  lands,  and  beasts  of  many  sorts  find  close  focus 
in  this  deep-cut  gorge,  with  its  narrow  funnel  of  teeming  lands 
on  either  side. 

Slowly  and  laboriously  we  plodded  on,  more  watchful  of  the 
mule  than  of  the  country.  A  good  litUe  boy  of  some  Sunday- 
school  education  sat  whittling  a  shingle.  Of  his  mother  he 
asked  if  she  knew  what  he  was  making.  "  No,"  said  she, 
"I  can't  tell."  "I  know  you  can't,"  said  he,  '"cos  you  don't 
know  what  I  'm  making ;  nobody  don't  know  what  I  'm  mak- 
ing; God  don't  know,  'cos  I  've  just  changed  my  mind  !  "  All 
the  way  I  watched  my  mule's  ears.  The  turn-outs  were  many 
and  often  necessary  to  dodge  the  thronging  freighters,  or  for 
other  reasons  of  his  own.  I  watched  his  ears  to  get  his  mind 
as  to  which  path  he  would  be  pleased  to  take,  for  the  only 
bridle  he  had  was  a  rope  halter  about  his  neck,  and  I  was  in- 
terested in  knowing  his  mulish  methods  as  to  tacks,  that  a  sud- 
den lurch  to  the  right  or  left  might  not  pitch  me  off.  I  knew 
how  pitching  off  felt,  and  braced  myself  accordingly.  But  I 
never  found  out  the  working  of  his  mulish  mind.  For  when  I 
was  full  sure  he  'd  take  the  right,  and  swayed  myself  to  meet  the 
movement,  he  almost  surely  changed  his  mind,  and  almost 
surely  pitched  me  off.  But  I  never  got  his  mind  ;  nobody  knew 
it ;  the  powers  of  creation  did  n't  know,  because  he  changed  it 
so  often.  In  despair  of  finding  out,  I  changed  my  tactics,  — 
unbraced  my  spinal  column,  as  politicians  do,  ready  to  catch 
the  veer  the  very  instant  it  was  made  ;  so  fairly  kept  my  seat. 

It  took  six  mortal  hours  to  make  that  fifteen  miles.  Squeez- 
ing through  the  last  deep  gorge,  and  a  deep  rut  in  the  solid 
rock  cut  out  by  ages  of  rolling  wheels  and  tramping  feet  full 
six  feet  into  it,  there  we  found  the  wall  and  gate,  —  the 
great,  frowning,  double,  armored,  bastioned  gate  of  stone 
and  hard-burned  brick,  with  one  archway  tumbled  in.  This 
was  the  object  of  our  mission,  —  the  great  wall  of  China,  built 
two  hundred  and  fifteen  years  before  our  era ;  built  of  great 

8 


114  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

slabs  of  well-hewn  stone,  laid  in  regular  courses  some  twenty 
feet  high,  and  then  topped  out  with  large  hard-burned  brick, 
filled  in  with  earth,  and  closely  paved  on  top  with  more  dark 
tawny  brick ;  the  ramparts  high  and  thick,  castled,  and  crenel- 
lated for  arms.  Right  and  left  the  great  wall  sprung  far  up  the 
mountain  side, — now  straight,  now  curved  to  meet  the  mountain 
ridge,  turreted  every  three  hundred  feet,  —  a  frowning  mass  of 
masonry.  No  need  to  tell  you  of  this  wall,  —  how  it  was  built 
to  keep  the  warlike  Tartars  out,  —  twenty-five  feet  high  by  forty 
thick,  fifteen  hundred  miles  long,  with  room  on  top  for  six  horses 
to  be  ridden  abreast.  Nor  need  you  to  be  told  that  for  fourteen 
hundred  years  it  kept  those  hordes  at  bay;  nor  that  in  the  main 
the  material  used  is  just  as  good  and  firm  and  strong  as  when 
first  put  in  place.  To  try  to  tell  you  how  one  feels  while  stand- 
ing on  this  vast  work,  scrutinizing  its  old  masonry,  its  queer  old 
cannon,  and  ambitious  sweep  along  the  mountain  crest,  were 
only  folly.  In  speechless  awe  we  strolled,  or  sat  and  gazed  in 
silent  wonder.  Fifteen  hundred  miles  of  this  gigantic  work 
built  on  the  rugged,  craggy  mountain  tops,  vaulting  over  gorges, 
spanning  wild  streams,  netting  the  river  archways  with  huge 
hard  bars  of  copper ;  swelling  out  in  double  gates,  with  swinging 
doors  and  bars  set  thick  with  iron  armor,  —  a  wonder  of  the  world 
before  which  the  old-time  classic  seven  wonders  —  all  gone  now 
save  the  great  pyramid  — were  merest  toys.  The  great  pyramid 
has  85,000,000  cubic  feet ;  the  great  wall  6,350,000,000  cubic 
feet !  An  engineer  in  Mr.  Seward's  party  here  five  years  ago 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  cost  of  this  wall,  figuring  labor 
and  material  at  present  rates,  would  more  than  equal  that  of  all 
the  one  hundred  thousand  miles  of  railroad  in  the  United  States  ! 
The  material  would  build  a  wall  six  feet  high  and  two  feet  thick 
right  straight  around  the  globe.  Yet  this  was  done  in  only 
twenty  years,  without  a  trace  of  debt  or  bond,  by  Che  Hwang-ti, 
"  first  emperor,"  first  Manchu  king,  209  b.  c.  To  this  great 
work  was  drafted  every  third  man  in  the  kingdom,  who  were 
kept  at  work  for  "  board  wages."  It  is  called  the  Wan-li  Chang 
Ching,  "myriad-mile  wall."  In  1793  the  members  of  the 
English  embassy  estimated  that  the  main  wall  contained  as 
much  masonry  as  all  the  dwellings  of  England  and  Scotland 
together,  and  the  fortresses  and  towers  as  mucli  brick  and  stone 
work  as  all  London  did  at  that  time.     It  extended  along  the 


CHINA.  1 1 5 

entire  northern  border  of  the  empire,  and  was  and  is  the  great- 
est human  effort  the  world  has  ever  known.  You  stand  before 
it  as  before  the  great  Omnipotent,  —  bowed  and  silent. 

China  has  other  and  heavier  walls  than  this,  but  none  so 
great  in  length.  The  one  about  the  old  city  of  Pekin,  now 
called  the  Tartar  city,  is  sixteen  miles  in  length,  fifty-nine  feet 
high,  and  forty  feet  thick,  which  with  its  bastions  measures 
some  225,000,000  cubic  feet.  Within  this,  about  the  imperial 
city,  is  another  wall  six  miles  in  length  ;  and  within  is  another 
around  the  forbidden  grounds  of  the  imperial  palace,  beyond 
whose  gates  no  foreigner  can  pass.  Then  a  ten-mile  smaller 
wall  encloses  the  Chinese  city,  abutting  on  the  Tartar  city. 
All  the  other  olden  Chinese  cities  are  well  walled  in ;  so 
if  you  undertake  to  count  the  extent  of  the  defensive  walls  of 
China,  you  plunge  into  a  maze  of  figures  that  none  can  com- 
prehend. And  after  all,  it  is  not  quite  certain  that  could  one 
mass  the  walls  and  stone-heaps  of  New  England,  they  would 
not  quite  outstrip  all  this  Chinese  greatness.  Moses  Ellis,  a 
ciphering  Yankee  farmer,  has  shown,  among  other  curious  facts, 
that  the  stone  walls  of  Massachusetts  cost  more  than  all  the 
buildings  in  Boston.     Figure  it  and  see  ! 

Some  juicy  steaks,  a  royal  mutton  stew,  some  pears  and 
grapes,  a  botde  of  claret  and  seltzer,  a  good  cigar,  another  good 
look  round,  and  back  we  sped  for  Nan  Kow,  another  weary  fif- 
teen miles,  to  sleep  again  in  the  same  noisome,  busy,  brawling  inn 
we  had  slept  in  the  night  before.  In  caps  and  coats  and  boots, 
unwashed  and  barely  fed,  we  threw  our  weary  bones  on  the  cold 
brick  kang  that  night  and  slept  ten  wakeless  hours.  Next  day, 
by  cart  and  many  miles  of  donkey  ride,  we  visited  the  great 
Ming  tombs,  —  a  miracle  of  heathen  work  in  brick  and  tile,  in 
stone  and  marble,  —  with  their  famous  granite  and  marble 
bridges,  six  straight  miles  of  paved  road  skii-ted  by  marble  statues 
of  men  and  elephants,  horses  and  camels,  lions  and  griffins  ;  col- 
umns, too,  and  mighty  marble  arches,  —  an  overwhelming  won- 
der, whose  very  existence,  even,  is  to  most  of  us  unknown,  — 
a  stately  wonder  in  this  far-off  wonderland. 

Another  night  on  a  kang;  a  hurried  trip  to  the  imperial  sum- 
mer palace,  with  its  ruined  and  unruined  palaces,  then  to  the 
temple,  with  its  gigantic  bell  of  bronze,  some  seventy  tons  in 
weight,  its  surface  all  a  story  or  a  sermon  in  finely  raised  Chinese 


Il6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

characters ;  then  back  again,  tired  and  hungry,  more  dirty 
than  ever,  to  our  restful  old  legation  compound.  Three  nights 
and  four  days  absent ;  some  hundred  miles  on  mules  and  in 
mule  carts ;  without  uncoating,  washing,  or  having  seen  a  bed, 
a  lamp,  or  a  looking-glass. 

"  Master,  when  you  going  to  Tientsin? " 

*'  Never  you  mind,  Yu  Che  ;  clean  up  these  clothes,  and  wait 
in  the  servants'  room  till  we  get  ready." 

He  stayed  there  just  three  days. 

We  wander  on  the  streets  and  on  the  wall ;  among  the  tem- 
ples, the  palaces,  the  halls,  and  pigtails.  Pigtails  everywhere. 
Whence  came  the  curious  custom  of  these  long-braided  queues  ? 
Previous  to  the  Manchu  Tartar  invasion  in  1627,  the  Chinese 
wore  their  hair  bound  up  on  the  top  of  the  head  ;  but  after- 
wards came  the  imperial  order  from  Lian-tung  to  shave  the  front 
part  of  their  heads  and  adopt  the  Mongol  queue  as  a  sign  of  ser- 
vitude, —  to  become  in  time  a  badge  of  honor  ;  its  absence,  deg- 
radation. How  came  the  conquering  Mongol  by  it?  Search  far 
back  among  the  historic  brick  of  Assyrian  days,  four  thousand 
years  ago,  and  graven  upon  her  clay  and  vitreous  seals  you  will 
find  these  same  braided  queues.  The  trace  of  braided  queues 
ends  there  ;  the  fashion  is  an  old  and  honored  one. 

•  •••••• 

Pekin  is  left  behind  us,  like  a  dream.  City  of  dust  and  dirt, 
donkeys  and  dogs,  dilapidation  and  decay,  —  city  of  the  old 
reghjie  and  old  customs,  good-by  !  City  of  a  million  people, 
without  a  newspaper,  without  a  gas  lamp  or  a  telephone  or  a 
sewing-circle,  not  even  a  whiskey-shop  !  As  it  was  when 
Moses  was  fished  out  of  the  bulrushes,  when  Herodotus  read 
history  on  the  polished  face  of  the  great  pyramid,  when  riotous 
Romans  robbed  the  Sabines  of  their  social  comforts,  when  Eng- 
land was  in  savagery,  and  America  slept  in  oblivion,  —  much 
the  same  city  is  it  to-day.  We  have  shaken  its  dust  from  our 
feet,  —  we  can  never  shake  it  from  our  clothing,  —  and  have 
moved  on  farther  south. 

It  happened  thus  :  We  had  seen  her  wall  and  her  temples, 
broken  bread  with  her  Chinese  city  pagans,  cheapened  goods 
with  her  pedlers,  and  considered  her  drowsy  destitution  ;  and 
winter  was  coming  on.  Longer  might  we  have  stayed,  tres- 
passers on  the  hospitable  patience  of  the  good  people  at  the 


CHINA.  WJ 

legation ;  but  we  mustered  our  mules  on  Monday,  paid  all 
debts  but  those  of  gratitude  to  our  kind  host  and  hostess, 
packed  up  our  purchases,  said  last  good-byes,  and  drove  bump- 
ingly  away.  Over  the  reeling  streets,  through  the  time-beaten 
gate,  do^\^l  through  the  narrowest,  strangest,  dirtiest  streets  in 
all  the  world,  out  into  the  dusty,  deep-rutted  country  roads,  and 
off  to  Tung  Kau. 

This  last  is  on  the  Pei  Ho,  "White  River."  Here  was  our 
boat,  our  house-boat,  which  was  to  take  us  down  stream  to 
Tientsin,  four  hundred  //  away.  We  had  ridden  in  Chinese 
carts,  whose  every  wheel  and  pin  dates  back  to  Confucian  days ; 
ridden  the  same  class  of  mules  and  donkeys  that  Noah  by  some 
mistake  admitted  to  the  ark  ;  slept  on  kangs,  and  eaten  our  peck 
of  dirt.  We  would  now  try  a  Chinese  house-boat.  One  of 
these  things  is  about  thirty  feet  long,  with  a  little  house  amid- 
ship,  —  a  house  just  twelve  feet  long.  Coming  on  deck  you  step 
into  a  well-hole  five  by  five,  and  six  feet  high  almost,  full  of 
cracks  and  covered  with  a  mat.  This  is  the  reception-room. 
Back  of  this,  six  feet  by  five,  and  four  feet  to  the  matted  roof,  is 
the  shaky  sort  of  bedroom,  into  which  you  crawl  on  hands  and 
knees,  make  up  your  bed,  and  go  to  sleep.  Behind  this,  five  by 
three,  is  your  kitchen,  where  your  "boy  "  cooks  your  meals  on 
a  charcoal  pan,  and  sleeps  there,  —  shutting  himself  up  like  a 
jack-knife.  Supper  or  any  other  meal  being  ready,  he  puts  a 
six-inch  table  by  your  recumbent  shoulders,  and  ser\-es  you 
there  upon  your  couch,  just  raised  upon  one  elbow.  Down 
in  the  dismal  hold,  both  fore  and  aft,  the  captain  sleeps ;  also 
his  crew,  —  three  tawny  coolies.  That 's  a  house-boat,  —  a  sort 
of  floating,  restless  coffin. 

The  first  night  out  was  cold.  Ice  formed,  but  the  boat  was 
poled  along  awhile  and  then  tied  up.  Captain  and  crew 
lifted  a  deck  plank,  dropped  down  out  of  sight  among  their 
coarse  straw,  replaced  the  plank  from  underneath,  and  went  to 
sleep.  These  coolies  don't  care  much  for  bed-clothes.  They 
go  to  sleep  upon  the  floor  or  straw,  first  taking  off  their  outer 
garments,  then  piling  the  same  upon  themselves,  and  are  quite 
content.  No  pillow,  sheet,  or  blanket;  no  washing-bills  to 
pay. 

Next  day  was  colder.  Siberian  winds  came  howling  down,  a 
raging,  snowless  blizzard.     It  does  n't  snow  here ;  there  is  a 


Il8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

little  flurry  now  and  then,  but  not  enough  to  whiten  the  ground. 
The  coolies  poled  awhile  in  the  morning,  but  the  ice  was 
getting  thick.  The  wind  was  foul,  or  they  would  have  raised 
their  little  mast  and  sail  that  lay  along  the  ridge-pole  of  the 
house,  and  so  gained  speed.  They  hitched  their  tracking-line 
and  went  on  shore  to  pull  the  boat  along ;  but  so  strong  was 
the  wind  and  ice  they  broke  their  half-inch  line,  and  all  was 
stopped.  All  day  the  fierce  wind  blew ;  the  ice  grew  stronger. 
Wrapped  in  our  thick  fur  robes  outside  our  overcoats,  we 
stretched  ourselves  upon  the  mattresses  we  had  brought  along, 
and  ate  and  slept,  or  slept  and  read,  with  mittens  on,  trying  to 
kill  the  very  dreary  time.  Through  the  wide  cracks  on  either 
side  the  biting  winds  came  whistling  in  and  tussled  with  our 
sables,  without  which  we  must  have  frozen.  Night-time  again 
was  no  better.  The  wind  increased  in  fury  as  the  sun  went 
down.  We  ate  at  six,  then  went  to  sleep,  and  slept  by  spells 
till  morning.  The  boat  was  frozen  in  ice  four  inches  thick. 
That  had  been  our  worst  fear.  We  were  almost  out  of  food,  — 
but  one  day's  ration  left.  We  were  some  thirty  miles  from  our 
starting-port,  and  a  hundred  from  Tientsin.  Should  we  walk 
back?  But  then  our  baggage  could  not  be  trusted  in  that 
thieving  crowd.  We  could  n't  stay  and  starve.  Something 
must  be  done,  and  right  away.  Our  guide  was  in  his  kitchen 
den  close  by. 

"  Hello,  Yu  Che  !    Awake?" 

"  Yes,  master ;  what  want  ?  " 

"  You  get  up  ;  go  out  and  see  if  you  can  find  a  cart  to  take 
us  somewhere." 

And  off  he  went.  The  wind  was  yet  aglee  ;  we  wrapped  our 
furs  about  us  closer  yet,  and  waited  his  return.  The  fellow  had 
been  lucky.  Not  far  away  he  hailed  a  countryman  who  had 
started  to  market  with  a  load  of  charcoal.  With  him  he  bar- 
gained to  take  our  bedding  and  boxes  on  top  of  his  coals.  A 
hurried  bowl  of  tea,  some  omelet  and  steak  and  toasted  bread, 
and  we  were  ready.  There  was  no  dressing  to  be  done.  We 
had  n't  pulled  off  a  coat  or  washed  a  face  or  finger  for  eight-and- 
forty  hours. 

The  colonel  stepped  ashore  to  see  the  goods  taken  out.  "You 
stay  in  boat,  master,  till  everything  is  out.  These  fellows  might 
make  steal."     Yu  Che  knows  his  business  and  his  countrymen's 


CHINA.  I  19 

habits.  Watching  well  the  goods  at  both  points,  we  got  them 
out,  got  them  to  the  cart,  piled  them  on,  and  away  we  went 
on  foot,  —  our  guide  watching  the  baggage.  The  outfit  was  the 
usual  two-wheeled  cart,  with  frame,  on  which  ten  four-bushel 
baskets  of  charcoal  rested.  A  very  lean  mule  stood  in  the 
shafts  to  steer.  Before  him,  all  abreast,  and  yoked  to  the 
cart  by  ropes  running  back  around  the  axle,  were  a  brownish 
cow  with  crumpled  horns,  a  yearling  steer,  and  a  sober  aged 
donkey. 

Any  port  in  a  storm  !  We  trudged  along  across  the  level 
country,  hour  after  hour,  wondering  when  we  'd  stop ;  and 
finally,  at  three  o'clock,  reached  the  village  and  a  Chinese  inn, 
—  the  very  one  we  had  slept  at  fifteen  days  before  on  our  way 
up  to  Pekin.  We  were  safe,  anyhow,  and  in  a  land  of  plenty. 
Taking  a  hearty  meal,  we  went  off  to  bed.  Morning  came. 
Our  faithful  "  guide,  philosopher,  and  friend  "  had  been  fortu- 
nate once  more.  Upon  the  street  he  found  three  carts  just  then 
returning  from  Pekin  to  Tientsin,  empty.  We  filled  them  at  an 
early  hour  next  morning,  after  a  hasty  breakfast  by  candle-light, 
and  gladly  rolled  out  of  the  court-yard  —  or  barn-yard,  rather  — 
of  the  last  Chinese  inn  we  might  patronize  in  1SS5.  Over 
the  deeply  rutted  road,  and  through  the  piercing  wind  and 
clouds  of  dust,  we  moved  along,  doing  the  forty  miles  at  a 
mule's  walking  speed,  in  just  fifteen  hours.  Warm  rooms  and 
soap  and  water  waited  on  our  needs  here  at  "The  Astor ; " 
good  food,  soft  beds,  and  full  ten  hours'  sleep  made  us  forget 
the  hardships  we  had  passed,  and  anxious  for  a  boat  to  take  us 
farther  on. 

There  are  no  good  modes  of  travel  in  China,  as  we  regard 
such  things,  when  once  you  bid  good-by  to  ocean-going  steam- 
ers or  their  private  launches.  The  country  roads  are  invariably 
bad.  The  canals,  once  fine,  when  China  was  better  ruled,  are 
now  in  a  state  of  wreck,  and  many  are  quite  abandoned  ;  the 
Chinese  city  streets  for  the  most  part  are  miserable.  Rivers  are 
long  and  deep  and  plenty,  but  not  at  all  improved.  A  bar  is 
a  bar  forever,  so  far  as  China  goes.  Dredging  and  jettying  is 
unthought  of;  all  is  left  to  luck  and  chance.  The  wear  and 
tear  and  unrepair  has  made  .the  roads  and  rivers,  canals  and 
dikes  and  streets,  marvels  of  discomfort.  If  a  country  thor- 
oughfare gets  washed  or  worn  away,  they  leave  it,  and  beat  out 


120  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

another  track.  If  canals  get  filled  with  mud  and  need  some 
dredging,  they  let  them  go,  and  pack  or  cart  the  freight  around. 
If  parts  of  brick  or  granite  pavements  get  the  worse  for  wear  or 
wholly  disappear,  never  mind ;  let  the  carts  bump  and  break,  or 
work  along  as  best  they  can.  The  street  commissioner  is  dead 
for  at  least  two  hundred  years,  and  no  one  comes  to  take  his 
place.     The  ruin  here  is  past  belief. 

Alongside  these  squalid  scenes  are  the  foreign  Concessions 
with  fine  bunds  or  wharves,  and  well-made,  well-kept  streets,  with 
sewers,  light,  and  water- works,  perhaps.  But  what  are  these  to 
China?  Nothing,  you  might  truly  think ;  yet  it  is  hoped  that 
this  commercial  missionary  work  will  have  its  effect,  as  no  doubt 
it  must.  In  the  Chinese  streets  of  the  Concession  in  Shanghai 
there  is  an  immense  difference  when  compared  with  those 
within  the  walls  of  the  old  Shanghai  city.  In  the  former  you 
may  walk  or  drive  with  comfort;  in  the  latter  —  don't  men- 
tion it ! 

As  with  the  land  and  water  ways,  so  with  the  temples,  gates, 
walls,  and  public  buildings.  Not  yet  has  appeared  a  temple  in 
repair.  They  were  doubtless  very  fine  when  built,  and  were 
well  kept  up,  no  doubt,  for  many  hundred  years ;  but  the  blight 
that  struck  the  roads  has  come  upon  everything.  Grand  gate 
and  temple  roofs,  built  of  imperishable  tiling,  are  allowed  to  grow 
up  to  grass  and  weeds,  the  tiles  pried  off  and  loosened  up  by 
frozen  earth  which  there  accumulates  and  finally  works  its  ruin. 
At  Pekin  they  close  the  city  gates  with  as  much  care  as  they  did 
a  thousand  years  ago,  when  there  was  reason  for  it ;  but  in  this 
same  wall  they  let  seeds  take  root  and  grow  to  trees  that  destroy 
large  sections.  Men  are  paid  to  tend  the  gate,  but  no  one 
to  protect  the  wall.  The  wall  is  forty  feet  wide  on  top,  but  no 
one  is  permitted  to  ascend  the  grass-grown  ramparts  save  those 
who  watch  and  such  as  go  up  to  cut  the  weedy  grass  which  is 
steadily  destroying  the  solid  pavement,  —  far  more  speedily  than 
would  the  tramp  of  feet,  which,  if  permitted,  would  keep  the 
stuff  from  growing.  But  civilians  were  not  allowed  there  a 
thousand  years  ago,  when  vigilant  watch  and  ward  was  kept, 
and  are  not  permitted  now.  These  are  but  few  of  the  thousand 
examples  that  might  be  quoted  of  ruinous  Chinese  conservatism. 
But  what  is  there  to  do  about  it  ?  The  missionary  says,  Con- 
vert them  !     The  commercial  man  says,  Railroad  them  !     The 


CHINA.  121 

linguist  says,  Confound  them  !  To  the  more  philosophic  mind 
it  is  evident  that  the  Flood,  which  was  to  have  produced  a 
general  water-cure,  stopped  short  of  China ;  but  that  another 
hydropathic  effort,  especially  created  for  this  hide-bound,  stand- 
still land,  might  work  its  sure  salvation. 

There  are  progressive  men  in  China,  —  progressive  Chinamen 
who  have  caught  the  spirit  of  the  world's  progress,  and  are  try- 
ing as  much  as  they  dare  to  kick  off  the  antique  shackles  and 
bring  the  country  into  the  open  sunlight  of  activity.  At  Tien- 
tsin, for  instance,  lives  Li  Hung  Chang,  —  the  foremost  man  in 
China  in  this  progressive  movement.  But  great  and  valuable 
as  he  might  be  to  China  and  his  people,  he  dares  not  push  him- 
self to  the  front,  lest  a  mere  four-line  letter  from  the  imperial 
pen  might  blot  him  out  entirely.  This  old-time,  old-thought 
incubus  at  Pekin  is  jealous  of  men  with  progressive  ideas, 
even  as  have  been  the  kingly  and  churchly  powers  of  many 
other  lands.  The  Emperor  here,  or  his  regent,  is  as  absolute  a 
monarch  as  ever  lived,  —  head  of  church  and  state,  high-priest 
and  king,  absolute.  The  man  is  a  bold  man,  if  not  surely 
doomed,  who  dares  become  conspicuously  great  in  China.  He 
must  go.  This  is  the  curse  of  bigotry,  —  of  church  and  state 
combined.  We  see  this  withering  ban  not  alone  in  China,  but 
everywhere  where  men  who  claim  alliance  to  Heaven  assume 
dictation  over  thoughts  of  other  men. 

Should  this  progressive  party  haply  win  the  new  boy  Empe- 
ror's ear,  then  railroads  will  be  built,  and  old  barriers  and 
hindrances  be  swept  away,  and  China  put  in  the  way  of  great 
advancement.  The  instrumentalities  must  be  foreign ;  and  so 
for  our  young  men  of  proper  education  and  enterprise  a  very 
wide  and  prosperous  field  would  be  opened  up.  China  has  all 
the  natural  resources  of  a  great  and  powerful  nation,  —  second 
to  none  in  climate,  soil,  mineral  resources  of  every  kind,  copi- 
ous streams,  and  teeming  millions  of  easily  governed  people, 
now  cursed  from  end  to  end  by  bigoted  conservatism. 

But  it  is  said  that  it  is  darkest  just  before  the  dawn ;  so 
let  us  hope  that  progressive  men  will  gain  the  front,  and  that 
this  great  hulking  power,  so  long  dormant,  will  emerge  from  its 
darkness  and  take  a  place  among  the  enlightened  powers.  Na- 
poleon prophesied  sore  things  for  Europe  should  China  once 
be  taught  her  real  strength.     But  it  is  hardly  possible,  in  fact 


1-22  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

or  logic,  that  Europe's  thrift  is  to  be  based  on  Asiatic  ignorance. 
If  this  is  the  theory,  then  it  is  high  time  that  it  were  exploded. 
China  ought  to  be  a  nobler  and  better  country  than  she  is. 
With  iron  mines  and  coal  equal  to  any  in  the  world,  she  buys 
old  scraps  of  every  sort  from  European  junk  shops,  and  freights 
them  here  to  hammer  out  nails,  bolts,  wagon  tires,  tools,  and 
such  other  small  needs  for  iron  as  must  be  filled.  With  mines 
of  gold  and  silver  full  of  richest  ores,  China  coins  no  money 
but  her  dirty  copper  "cash,"  —  a  hundred  for  ten  cents;  a  dol- 
lar five  pounds  weight.  With  wealth  enough  and  resources  of 
almost  every  sort  save  active  brains,  China  "totes"  coals  and 
goods  long  stretches  upon  the  backs  of  brute  and  human  ani- 
mals ;  degrading  men  and  women  to  the  state  of  beasts  of 
burden.  With  abundant  means  and  credit  the  country  has  no 
national  banking  system,  and  leaves  such  affairs  in  the  hands  of 
foreigners  at  seaports,  or  individuals  at  other  points ;  yet  in  the 
St.  Petersburg  museum  you  may  see  a  bank-note  of  the  Impe- 
rial Bank  of  China,  issued,  as  its  date  shows,  3,344  years  ago ; 
showing,  as  far  as  can  be  shown,  that  China  was  the  first  coun- 
try of  the  world  to  have  a  national  bank  of  issue.  This  country 
has  long  been  sinking  from  a  point  of  lofty  superiority  to  one  of 
low  degradation.  In  days  of  old  her  internal  improvements 
were  excellent.  Fine  roads,  superior  stone  and  marble  and 
suspension  bridges,  vast  networks  of  canals  connecting  her  many 
rivers,  gave  ready  ways  for  easy  transportation ;  her  mural  de- 
fences are  even  yet  the  wonder  of  the  world.  Paper,  printing, 
gunpowder,  German  silver,  sugar,  tea,  and  many  other  things 
she  gave  us.  Even  her  proselyting  priests,  no  doubt,  discovered 
America  and  peopled  much  of  its  western  shores.  Old,  China 
surely  is ;  great  in  light  and  enterprise  she  surely  too  has  been ; 
cast  down  she  truly  is  to-day,  —  a  great  and  lumbering  hulk  for 
all  to  come  and  pick  at. 

Here  and  there  are  spasmodic  signs  of  latent  energy,  —  either 
the  dying  gasps  and  quivers,  or  an  awakening  into  new  life  and 
sense  and  energy.  At  all  events,  injecting  of  new  blood  and 
vim  from  other  lands  will  surely  work  a  change  when  properly 
applied.  For  the  past  hundred  years  —  more  notably  the  last 
fifty  —  commercial  sharks  have  counted  this  great  hulk  a  mere 
place  of  plunder,  —  a  place  to  come  to  and  trade  for  a  dozen 
years,  and  then  retire  laden  with  wealth.     In  this  attempt  were 


CHINA.  123 

countless  failures ;  so  men  have  stayed  here,  made  such  Euro- 
pean cities  as  Shanghai  and  Hong-Kong;  taught  the  natives 
many  a  way  of  foreign  trade,  —  taught  them  so  well  as  to  find 
themselves  too  often  overmatched  by  their  students.  But  so 
soon  as  other  nations  make  this  a  real  point  for  colonizing,  — 
come  here  not  to  grasp  some  gain  and  run  away  home  with  it, 
but  to  build  up  cities  and  foster  internal  enterprises,  —  when 
they  come  to  stay,  things  will  be  different.  We  of  America 
complain  of  the  Chinaman  that  he  doesn't  come  to  stay, — 
comes  only  to  get  money  enough  to  make  himself  comfortable 
for  life  in  his  own  land,  and  then  hurry  back  to  it.  But  we  for- 
get that  this  is  the  very  thing  Europeans  and  Americans  have 
been  doing,  or  trying  to  do,  in  China  for  many  years.  Our 
young  men  and  merchants  didn't  go  out  to  China  to  stay; 
they  had  no  such  thought.  They  heard  of  it  as  a  place  for 
probable  fortunes  in  ten  or  twenty  years  at  most ;  intending  as 
they  came  to  make  their  ''  pile  "  in  China  and  spend  it  in  their 
homes,  among  their  friends.  I  have  not  met  a  skipper  on  the 
sea,  or  a  merchant  on  the  street,  who  did  not  come  with  that 
intent.  Many,  no  doubt,  achieved  their  purpose ;  but  this 
does  n't  build  up  China.  China  has  gained  more  impetus,  per- 
haps, from  those  who  failed  than  from  those  who  were  success- 
ful. The  former  had  to  stay;  they  made  homes,  and  such 
improvements  as  we  find. 

There  is  room  almost  anywhere  here  for  real  enterprise  and 
talent.  The  best  seats  are  never  full.  The  struggle  may  be 
great,  but  when  you  make  your  way  through  the  crowd  there  is 
a  place  reserved.  The  schools  are  turning  out  more  teachers, 
officers,  engineers,  and  mariners  than  there  is  any  room  for  in 
the  States.  There  is  some  room  here  for  those  of  the  right 
sort,  —  those  who  are  willing  to  abandon  home  and  country  to 
find  both  elsewhere.  Come  here  and  learn  the  peoj^le's  ways, 
and  in  some  measure  adopt  them  ;  come  here  to  make  a  living 
and  some  progress  for  the  land,  rather  than  make  a  fortune. 
But  don't  come  out  here  penniless ;  that  were  folly,  unless  you 
have  strong  pre-arrangements.  You  need  five  hundred  or  a 
thousand  dollars  to  live  on  carefully  after  you  arrive,  while  you 
are  waiting  and  working  for  a  mere  foothold.  Don't  forget  this, 
for  there  is  no  money  on  bushes  here  that  you  can  reach  right 
off. 


124  "^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

The  climate  here  does  not  vary  much  from  that  of  the  States, 
—  cold  in  the  north,  warm  in  the  south;  snow  on  the  moun- 
tains, ice  on  the  northern  rivers,  —  healthy  as  any  other  country. 
If  this  effort,  which  now  seems  pushing  to  the  front,  to  inaugu- 
rate railroads  and  mining  interests  succeeds,  —  if  Li  Hung 
Chang  and  his  party  don't  get  snuffed  out  by  the  mossbacks 
around  the  throne,  —  there  will  be  a  vast  field  here  for  the 
young  and  ready  workers  of  the  world. 


CHINA.  125 


CHAPTER   XI. 

CHINA. 

Hong-Kong,  the  "  Valley  of  Fragrant  Waters."  —  Iron-clad  Peacemakers 
in  the  Harbor.  —  Canton,  "Great  Eastern  City."  —  Its  Floating  Pop- 
ulation.—  Aspects  of  the  Place.  —  Streets,  Houses,  Temples,  and 
Pagodas.  —  A  Chinese  Cemetery.  —  Silk- Weavers  at  Home.  —  A 
Water-Clock.  —  A  Police  Court  in  Canton.  —  Extorting  Confessions 
from  Prisoners.  —  Savage  Proceedings.  —  Methods  of  Punishment  in 
China.  —  A  Chapter  of  Horrors.  —  Thanksgiving  Day  in  Canton. — 
A  Home-like  Feast.  —  An  American-Chinese  Merchant  of  the  Olden 
Time. 

ON  this  middle  day  of  November  we  climb  the  gang-plank 
of  the  good  steamer  "  Fung  Chun,"  and  steam  away  to 
Shanghai.  To  turn  herself  around,  the  steamer  backs  below  the 
wharf,  and  swings  carefully,  scraping  the  banks  both  fore  and 
aft,  so  narrow  is  the  stream.  Navigation  of  these  waters  is  not 
easy ;  yet  it  is  a  rather  pleasant  way  of  passing  a  tourist's  time. 

We  were  very  glad  to  get  away  from  the  wintry  winds  and 
the  frozen  streams  of  the  north  country,  and  exchange  the  chill 
and  dust  for  the  warmth  and  quiet  of  this  pleasant  ocean  voy- 
age. The  travellers  are  mostly  going  south.  One  comes  to 
Hong-Kong  —  "valley  of  fragrant  waters  "  —  to  go  somewhere 
else,  — to  make  of  it  a  stepping-stone  to  Canton,  the  largest  and 
best-known  city  of  the  East.  Hong-Kong  is  parvenu.  Two- 
score  years  ago  it  did  not  exist ;  to-day  it  is  the  third  port, 
perhaps,  of  all  the  commercial  maritime.  The  man  who  first 
hoisted  the  British  flag  here  lives  here  yet.  The  docks  are  new, 
and  so  are  the  streets  and  roads  and  houses. 

Hong-Kong  is  on  an  island  ninety  miles  below  Canton.  It 
belongs  to  England ;  is  as  much  British  in  ownership  and  ad- 
ministration as  Malta  is,  or  Gibraltar.  From  the  harbor's  shore 
to  the  top  of  the  granitic  mountain,  some  2,000  feet,  the  rise  is 
most  abrupt,  —  terrace  upon  terrace,  plain  and  zigzag,  —  each 
row  of  dwellings  overlooking  roofs  of  the  row  in  front,  down 
upon  the  broad  and  placid  harbor  where  rest  at  dock  or  anchor 


126  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  vessels  of  peace  and  war  of  every  nation  of  the  earth;  lying 
here  for  freights,  or  waiting  to  see  what  may  turn  up,  or  to  keep 
the  peace  intact.  As  a  rule,  gunboats  and  gunboatmen  don't 
do  much  but  repair  their  boats  and  draw  pay  for  the  men ;  but 
that  is  as  it  should  be.  Their  power  is  in  their  presence 
more  than  in  their  deeds.  China  and  other  nations  may  be  well- 
disposed, —  no  doubt  they  are  ;  but  there  is  virtue  in  the  presence 
of  these  burly  warships  that  loiter  about,  rusting  out  and  holding 
aloft  the  switch  that  might  sometime  fall  and  hit  a  transgressor 
hard.  So  here  and  elsewhere  in  these  ports  you  see  their  dark 
and  ugly  hulks  lazily  at  rest  beneath  their  unclad  masts  and 
smokeless  funnels,  waiting  and  warning. 

But  Hong-Kong  is  all  modern,  all  bright  and  new  and  ex- 
pensive, and  has  cost  the  home  government  many  millions 
sterling.  The  buildings  are  of  brick  and  granite,  the  roads  of 
stone  work  and  macadam  or  concrete,  —  all  very  good,  as  there 
is  n't  much  to  wear  them  out.  Maybe  there  are  a  dozen  car- 
riages here,  not  more  ;  for  all  the  street  work,  you  may  safely 
say,  is  done  by  human  cattle.  They  carry  you  in  sedan  chairs, 
open  and  covered;  roll  you  about  in  ji?inkishas ;  tote  the 
freight  on  bamboo  poles ;  tote  the  iron,  stone,  brick,  boards,  — 
everything.  They  make  the  streets,  and  forty  coolies  haul  the 
great  stone  roller  that  smooths  them  down.  Draught-horses  or 
mules  or  oxen  have  no  footing  here.  Above  the  city,  creeping 
about  the  steeps  and  gorges  of  the  mountain,  great  gangs  of  men 
are  working  on  the  aqueduct.  All  the  cement  and  other  ma- 
terial is  packed  up  there  by  coolies ;  all  the  iron,  all  the  heavy 
burdens  that  we  are  wont  to  pull  about  with  horses,  oxen,  or 
steam,  are  here  laboriously  handled  by  sunburned,  pigtailed 
images  of  their  Maker. 

Canton  is  a  great  city,  greatest  and  best  in  all  the  Chinas. 
(The  word  is  pronounced  Kwang-tung,  and  means  "  great  east- 
ern city.")  Steaming  up  the  broad  Pearl  River,  the  first  indica- 
tions of  urban  presence  are  two  tall  pagodas,  massive  and 
handsome  structures,  with  bushy  sides  and  tops,  —  trees  growing 
on  them  and  out  of  them,  bringing  them  to  ruin.  Grand  forti- 
fications, also,  dispute  the  way,  or  might  do  so  ;  and  here  across 
the  channel  are  stout  rows  of  piling  lately  driven  deep  into  the 
mud  to  thwart  invasion  during  the  war  with  France.  Other 
channels  were  also  choked,  but  only  this  has  been  reopened. 


CHINA.  \2J 

Next  comes  in  sight  the  low-built  city,  its  rivers,  wharves, 
canals,  and  landing  places  broad-fringed  with  native  boats  of 
every  sort  and  size,  —  whole  fields  of  boats  interlocked,  teeming 
with  human  life  and  noise  and  motion.  These  are  the  floating 
homes  of  full  three  hundred  thousand  Cantonese,  —  people  who 
rarely  step  on  land.  These  boats,  large,  high-pooped  junks  or 
tiny  sampans,  are  the  houses,  homes,  and  everlasting  abiding- 
places  of  all  their  generations.  They  were  born  here  on  these 
boats,  reared  here,  educated  here ;  here  they  do  their  house- 
keeping, fishing,  ferrying,  trading,  and  trafficking  ;  raise  their 
children,  ducks,  and  pigs  ;  peddle  fish  and  flowers  ;  serve  dinners 
if  you  please,  with  dancing  and  music,  too  ;  cook,  wash,  eat, 
drink,  live,  marry,  and  die,  on  these  coarse,  unpainted,  rocking, 
crowding,  brawling  boats.  There  are  thousands  of  them, 
fringing  every  approach  to  land,  choking  the  canals,  contending 
at  the  water  steps,  —  a  crushing,  bustling  mass  of  human  life  afloat. 
They  have  advantages,  to  be  sure,  that  landsmen  know  not  of. 
They  seem  a  well-fed,  rather  happy  people,  —  a  real  floating 
population. 

No  wheels  turn  in  Canton  streets.  If  the  Emperor  were  to 
come  he  could  n't  drive  an  inch,  —  not  in  a  carriage  larger  than 
a  wheelbarrow.  So  we  took  sedans  ;  and  seated  in  spacious 
bamboo  chairs  suspended  upon  two  long  brass-tipped  poles  sup- 
ported by  the  brawny  shoulders  of  three  coolies  garbed  in  the 
white  and  red  uniforms  of  the  consulate,  we  proceeded  to  see 
the  town.  My  three  coolies  made  some  remarks  as  they  lifted 
the  sedan,  but  no  rebellion.  They  had  been  trained  to  bearing 
burdens,  and  it  was  only  their  national  pride  that  kept  them 
from  dropping  the  chair  and  taking  to  the  jungle.  We  should 
have  volunteered  to  furnish  two  or  three  more,  but  had  heard 
so  much  about  human  endurance,  especially  that  of  Chinese 
coolies,  that  we  really  wanted  to  know  just  how  many  pounds 
per  man  would  kill  one  on  the  spot. 

Canton  is  walled  and  not  walled.  The  unwalled  suburbs 
along  the  river  bank  are  quite  extensive.  Then  come  a  first 
and  a  second  wall,  both  quite  useless,  and  so  obscure  that  we 
knew  not  when  we  passed  them.  The  streets  are  clean,  well- 
paved,  and  narrow,  —  say  seven  feet  on  an  average.  The  stores 
and  shops  are  built  of  good  brown  brick,  two  stories  high,  the 
dwellings  in  the  rear  and  overhead.     The  aspect  of  the  place 


128  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

is  that  of  earnest  business  ;  the  stores  are  clean  and  rather  spa- 
cious, —  eighteen  feet  ceihngs  and  six  to  ten  feet  wide  upon  an 
average  ;  the  jobbing  houses  larger,  but  all  two  stories,  with 
no  two  ridge-poles  joining  on  a  level.  The  merchants'  club- 
houses are  large  and  clean,  and,  like  the  better  stores,  present 
much  well-carved  wood  in  gold  and  lacquered  works,  with  finely- 
chiselled  granite  floors  and  marble  steps  and  counters,  show- 
ing many  a  costly  sign  or  text  or  dangling  ornament.  No  fetid 
smells  annoy  the  nose  ;  and  though  in  the  market-places  you 
may  have  a  tender  juicy  pussy-cat  or  well-jerked  rat  to  eat,  the 
meats  or  fish  displayed  are  very  neat  and  tempting.  The  city 
has  no  sewer  system,  but  offensive  matter  is  kept  removed,  and 
the  water  that  they  drink  is  boiled  and  served  with  tea.  And  it 
has  been  observed  and  well  established  in  China  that  cholera 
makes  no  ravages  here.  It  comes,  but  gains  no  foothold,  and 
all  because,  as  they  believe,  the  night-soil  is  kept  removed  with- 
out the  aid  of  sewers,  and  the  masses  drink  boiled  water.  This 
is  worth  thinking  of,  —  that  fine  sewerage  may  not  contribute  to 
health  as  much  as  daily  removal  by  cart  or  bucket ;  and  that 
boiled  water  is  the  safest  of  all  drinks. 

Not  only  as  to  her  trade,  but  as  to  her  temples.  Canton  looks 
prosperous.  In  no  other  Chinese  city  have  we  seen  the  places 
of  public  worship  so  well  and  neatly  kept,  so  generally  pat- 
ronized and  looked  after.  The  buildings  are  clean,  the  pave- 
ments and  altars  fine  ;  the  gilded  gods  look  bright  and  sleek 
and  rather  well-contented  with  their  devotees ;  the  carved,  stuc- 
coed, frescoed  saints  and  wooden  watchmen  at  the  shrines  and 
gates  seem  fresh  and  frisky,  always  well  fixed  up,  and  rather 
proud  and  business-like.  This  is  about  right.  If  you  are  going 
to  worship  in  front  of  stocks  and  stones,  the  stocks  and  stones 
ought  to  be  good,  —  the  best  of  their  class.  Congregations  — 
be  they  pagan,  Christian,  or  mixed  —  can't  afford  to  worship 
second-hand  misfit  gods.  To  have  weather-beaten  meeting- 
houses of  any  sort,  with  walls,  floors,  ceilings,  altars,  pulpits,  or 
other  properties,  out  of  order,  tells  too  loudly  of  decaying  faith. 
In  northern  China  temple  worship  is  a  good  deal  neglected ;  in 
Canton  it  is  most  vigorous.  So,  too,  Canton  is  the  most  thrifty 
commercially.     The  moral  goes  without  telling. 

At  noon  we  reached  the  northern  wall,  and  lunched  in  the 
top  of  the  great  five-story  pagoda,  in  the  presence  of  swarthy 


CHINA.  1 2  9 

newly  gilded  gods,  and  some  forty  soldiers  and  coolies  who 
looked  on  with  satisfaction  as  we  stowed  away  cold  meats  and 
bread  and  claret.  The  outlook  northward  revealed  some  twenty 
thousand  acres  of  closely  packed  ancestral  graves,  —  a  cemetery 
dating  back  to  Abraham's  time  or  farther ;  and  yet  in  all  this 
field  of  bones  and  skulls,  which  on  the  resurrection  day  will 
marshal  fifty  million  souls,  there  is  n't  a  monument  that  would 
be  fairly  worth  six  bits  in  any  second-hand  shop  in  the  country. 
The  Chinese  don't  take  much  pride  in  post-mortem  marbles. 
As  such  marbles  are  of  but  a  few  generations,  and  are  then 
broken  up  for  lime  or  macadam,  who  shall  say  that  these  heathen 
are  not  right  in  putting  their  money  to  other  uses  ? 

Still  in  Canton.     Would  we  visit  the  police  court  ? 

Yes.  We  had  been  to  the  temple  of  terrors  and  given  heed 
to  the  manner  of  trial  and  punishment  in  what  seemed  to  be 
a  tolerably  well-organized  Chinese  hell,  —  of  which  farther  on  ; 
so  it  seemed  proper  and  fitting  that  we  should  look  in  upon  the 
Cantonese  police  court,  because,  as  we  now  know,  there  is  a 
sort  of  close  relationship  between  the  two  —  in  China. 

Being  carried  into  the  court-house  yard,  which  is  rather  clean 
and  spacious,  we  were  attended  by  the  general  rabble  of  men 
and  children,  curious  to  see  the  strangers.  Court  was  not  in 
session.  The  magistrate  had  gone  out  to  lunch.  Several  frowzy- 
looking  subjects  were  lying  about  the  skirts  of  the  square,  chained 
and  dirty,  waiting  for  justice  and  soap  and  water,  and  needing 
all  three,  no  doubt. 

We  adjourned  a  block  or  two  to  see  some  silk -weaving  and 
rummage  about  the  streets  and  shops  till  the  judge  should  have 
his  cJww  and  return  to  business.  Silk-weaving  shops  are  small, 
obscure  places,  with  little  looms  in  little  rooms  on  a  dirt 
floor,  the  weaver's  feet  upon  the  very  earth ;  the  gleaming 
fabric  that  he  weaves,  scarce  a  foot  above  it.  The  looms  have 
no  gleam  of  polished  iron  or  steel  or  brass ;  all  are  of  wood. 
There  is  no  hiss  of  steam  or  whirr  of  wheels;  no  superintendent 
moving  here  and  there.  The  rooms  have  no  fine  glass  windows 
anywhere  ;  only  some  unglazed  skylights  in  the  matting  overhead. 
Everything  is  cheap  and  dingy,  —  everything  but  the  growing 
webs,  which  fairly  gleam  with  silken  sheen  of  varied  patterns,, 
managed,  not  by  automatic  machinery,  but  only  by  a  boy  stand- 

9 


130  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

ing  aloft  upon  a  pole  watching  some  numbers  on  hanks  of  warp, 
according  to  his  slate.  He  and  the  shuttle-man  below  were 
making,  in  that  dingy,  stuffy  room,  such  finery  as  might  cause 
ball-rooms  to  shine,  and  many  a  dame  o\  girl  to  toss  her  head 
a  bit  while  sweeping  down  the  middle  aisle.  Strange  that  such 
pretentious,  costly,  pocket-wearying  stuff  should  hail  from  such 
a  squalid  den  ! 

Canton  drug-stores  we  found  were  very  good,  —  not  bulging 
out  with  colored  water  globes,  but  gorgeous  in  their  gilded  signs 
and  countless  gleaming  packages  and  rows  of  pots  and  jars,  with 
lotions,  potions,  powders,  pills,  and  sirups,  —  a  thousand  things 
on  tables,  shelves,  and  counters,  all  native  goods,  all  patent, 
—  everything  put  up  in  order  and  sold  for  cash  at  high  prices. 
These  fellows  have  been  in  the  patent-medicine  business  since 
the  Witch  of  Endor's  time  ;  and  if  there  is  a  single  disease  for 
which  they  cannot  supply  a  remedy,  then  they  don't  know  it. 
There  is  no  phase  of  human  nature  they  are  not  prepared  to 
meet.  The  colonel  could  n't  make  them  understand  his  pet 
disorder,  so  they  got  out  a  pill,  —  a  rather  pretty  pill,  an  inch  in 
diameter  at  least,  made  up  of  dried  and  ground  hard-boiled  eggs 
and  deer  horns.  This  would  make  him  strong  as  Samson  and 
Goliath  !  No  doubt ;  but  remembering  the  police  court  and  the 
water-clock,  we  could  n't  wait  to  hear  the  directions. 

The  water-clock,  so  the  guide  claims,  is  older  than  Moses 
and  Abraham.  It  has  a  solid  brick  four-story  building  close 
by  the  temples  of  Buddha,  the  temple  of  the  god  of  war,  and 
the  police  court.  Its  originality  consists  of  six  metallic  tubs  on 
six  steps,  one  above  the  other,  the  water  from  the  bottom  of 
the  highest  one  dripping,  a  drop  at  a  time,  into  the  top  of  its 
nearest  neighbor,  and  so  on  down.  In  the  last  tub  rests  a  wooden 
float,  bearing  a  vertically  graduated  rule  that  runs  up  through  a 
slotted  board  and  rests  across  the  top.  The  figures  as  they  rise 
above  this  slot  indicate  the  time,  and  the  time  is  marked  every 
quarter  hour  upon  a  broad  board,  which  is  hung  conspicuously 
upon  the  outer  wall,  that  all  who  will  may  know  the  time  o'day. 
We  found  the  clock  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  wrong ;  but 
that  does  n't  matter  where  there  are  no  trains  to  make,  no  bank 
to  close  at  three,  no  prayer-meetings,  theatres,  or  lodges,  to  be 
jun  on  time.     What  was  the  matter  with  it? 

"  Well,"  so  said  our  guide,  "  the  French  and  English  when 


CHINA.  1 3 1 

they  made  the  war,  he  stole  'em  all  these  things.  He  steal  'em 
six,  he  bring  back  three  !  " 

So  it  was  ;  only  three  tanks  where  they  once  had  six.  Of 
course  the  clock  could  n't  run  right.  But  it  is  the  only  native 
clock  we  saw  in  China ;  and  in  the  days  before  Ramses  and 
Seth  Thomas,  it  doubtless  did  good  work,  —  better  far  than  the 
hour-glass  of  our  forefathers.,  which  had  to  be  turned  every  sixty 
minutes.  This  water-clock  is  perpetual ;  for  as  the  bottom  tank 
gets  full,  it  sets  a  siphon  off,  the  water  drops  out  in  a  jiffy,  the 
graduated  stick  goes  down  with  the  float,  and  a  new  day's  work 
begins  again. 

But  the  judge  had  taken  tifhn  ;  the  court  was  in  full  blast ;  so 
back  we  went,  and  were  admitted.  It  was  a  roundabout  way  to 
get  in,  —  round  two  right-hand  corners,  three  left-hand  ones,  and 
several  alleys,  back  from  the  court-yard  and  noisy  streets.  There 
were  no  spectators  besides  our  two  selves  and  our  guide.  Three 
prisoners  already  were  in  limbo,  and  one  was  upon  his  knees 
before  the  big  fat  judge.  As  near  as  we  could  see,  prisoners 
don't  have  much  fun  in  Chinese  courts.  When  the  police  run 
them  in,  their  friends  or  neighbors  can  come  and  speak  in  their 
behalf  J  but  woe  to  the  prisoner  who  has  no  character  in  court, 
—  "  no  friends  to  speaky  him  good."  The  prisoner  is  arraigned 
to  answer  to  the  charge,  whatever  it  may  be.  If  he  pleads 
guilty,  it  is  a  sad  day  for  him.  If  he  refuses  to  talk,  it 's  no  fun 
either.  Before  we  entered  three  had  been  on  their  knees  before 
the  stern  old  squire  in  red  and  yellow  silken  robes,  and  had  re- 
fused to  speak.  They  were  left  upon  their  knees,  framed  to  a 
narrow  upright  board  placed  close  behind  them.  Right  through 
a  convenient  hole  in  this  board  were  reeved  their  pigtail  queues  ; 
their  feet  were  snatched  up  from  the  ground  and  tied  by  each 
great  toe  upon  the  frame,  and  left  dangling.  The  hands  were 
caught  as  far  back  as  they  would  stretch,  each  thumb  tied  to  the 
frame.  So  our  prisoner  was  kneeling  on  the  tips  of  his  knees, 
his  feet  and  hands  suspended  by  big  toes  and  thumbs,  his  head 
caught  by  his  hair.  It  was  torture  most  acute.  To  move  the 
head  or  feet  or  arms  was  only  to  increase  it.  Only  the  eyes 
were  unrestrained,  and  these  were  fronted  to  the  judge. 

"  Who  is  this  man  on  his  knees  before  the  court?  "  we  asked 
Afu,  our  guide. 

"  He  b'long  pilate." 


132  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

"•  Pirate,  eh  !     What  is  the  judge  saying  to  him?  " 

"  He  speaky  him  nobody  speaky  good  ;  al]a  speaky  him  bad, 
speaky  him  pilate.  He  tellee  him  must  speaky  something.  He 
speaky  nothing.  Judge  say  if  not  speaky  proper  he  make  him 
trouble.     Man  say  if  he  speaky  then  killee  he ;  cut  head  off." 

The  plain  case  was,  the  fellow  was  up  for  piracy,  and  had  no 
one  to  testify  in  his  behalf.  If  he  pleaded  guilty  it  was  death  ;  if 
he  didn't  it  was  torture,  —  no  sixty  days  and  costs,  or  six  months 
in  a  cosey  jail. 

From  his  back  a  loose  coat  was  removed  ;  then,  naked  to  the 
waist,  he  knelt  towards  the  court.  In  mildly  earnest  tones  the 
judge  and  his  assistant  besought  the  kneeling  culprit  to  tell 
the  truth,  warning  him  that  otherwise  he  must  suffer,  as  he 
was  an  old  offender,  and  no  one  would  come  to  speak  for  him. 
The  prisoner  said  nothing.  So  to  speak,  he  was  between  the 
devil  and  the  deep  sea,  —  which  way  he  turned  was  trouble. 

Refusing  still  to  speak,  two  policemen  took  his  hands  from 
off  the  ground  and  stretched  them  out ;  another  seized  his  pig- 
tail and  jerked  his  head  well  forward ;  and  another  yet,  with  a 
dry  split  bamboo  wand  as  sharp  and  tough  as  steel,  stood  close 
behind. 

Again  the  court  implored  him  to  speak  the  truth ;  but  truth 
was  sudden  death,  and  he  was  dumb.  A  motion  from  the  judge, 
and  the  savage  bamboo  rained  ten  stinging  stripes  athwart  his 
naked  back.  No  word.  Then  came  ten  more  a-whistling 
through  the  air,  making  a  livid  track  across  his  shoulder  blades  ; 
and  where  the  biting  bamboo  knout  came  down  upon  the  back 
of  his  right  arm,  great  drops  of  blood  came  out  and  fell  in  clots 
upon  the  bricks. 

Again  the  judge  asked  the  prisoner,  howling  now  with  pain, 
to  speak  the  truth.  No  answer.  A  fresh  hand  caught  the  sting- 
ing bamboo,  and  rained  upon  the  livid  flesh  ten  fiery,  biting 
blows,  followed  by  streams  of  blood  and  shrieks  for  mercy. 

Once  more  the  judge,  without  a  change  of  voice,  besought 
the  writhing  culprit  to  confess  the  truth,  on  penalty  of  more 
pain ;  but  not  a  single  word  came  from  the  man.  Again  his 
arms  were  stretched,  and  a  third  man  took  the  scourge.  Like 
strokes  of  livid  lightning  hissing  through  the  air,  fell  ten  wither- 
ing blows  upon  the  now  swollen  and  blackened  flesh.  But  there 
was  not  a  wince,  or  scream,  or  word.     The  culprit's  ner\-es  and 


CHINA. 


133 


tongue  seemed  paralyzed.     He  knew  it  was  death  to  speak  the 
truth.     His  chance  was  all  on  the  other  side. 

The  judge  then  parleyed  once  again,  but  getting  no  response, 
another  burly  brute,  the  biggest  of  the  lot,  caught  up  the  bloody 
bamboo,  and  fairly  hurled  upon  the  reeking,  galled  flesh  full 
twenty  blighting  blows  which  broomed  the  bamboo  ends  and 
sent  the  blood  a-trickling  down  the  wiry  victim's  back  in  twenty 
crimson  streams. 

Another  parley.  Sixty  blows  had  fallen,  and  these  were  but 
mere  boy's  play  to  the  tortures  yet  in  store,  —  the  knouting  of 
the  legs  and  feet ;  the  beating  of  the  face  and  mouth  with  tawny 
rawhide  thongs ;  the  distorting  pressure  of  the  wrists  and  hands 
beneath  the  torturing  screw,  which,  with  other  implements,  were 
hanging  on  the  walls.  But  we  had  seen  enough,  and  feeing  the 
guard  who  kindly  let  us  in  and  out,  off  we  went,  fully  satis- 
fied that  getting  caught  at  piracy  in  Canton  fails  to  contribute  to 
personal  comfort. 

We  did  not  go  to  the  public  execution  ground,  for  there  was 
nothing  going  on  that  week  in  the  beheading  line.  Occasionally 
they  cut  off  a  few  dozen  heads,  and  they  say  it  is  really  worth  a 
stranger's  while  to  see  how  straight  and  swift  and  sure  the 
broadsword  descends  upon  the  doomed  neck  and  sends  the 
head  a-spinning  to  the  ground  ;  but  one  can't  stand  everything. 

There  are  many  pleasant  things  in  Canton  ;  but  having  at- 
tended a  temple  of  horrors,  and  being  in  a  rather  horrible  state 
of  mind,  growing  out  of  recalling  the  police  court  scene,  per- 
haps I  might  as  well  dish  up  more  tribulation.  The  general 
bent  of  theology,  pagan  or  Christian,  is  to  extremes,  espe- 
cially in  those  countries  beyond  the  gates  of  death,  —  places  we 
have  no  real  knowledge  of.  The  theologist,  pagan  or  Christian, 
could  formulate  no  heaven  if  hell  were  counted  out,  could 
conceive  of  no  "  land  of  pure  delight,  where  saints  immortal 
reign,"  without  the  other  element  of  speechless  torture  ;  so  in 
the  texts  and  in  the  sermons,  in  the  arts  and  in  the  temples, 
there  is  given  ample  taste  of  both.  The  old  Egyptian  at  the 
tombs  of  the  Kings  painted  heavenly  scenes  and  flames  of  hell 
six  thousand  years  ago,  with  purgatorial  chances ;  the  Chinese 
artist  set  those  things  forth  some  little  farther  on ;  and  then  the 
Buddhist ;  next  the  Christian  authors  followed  suit,  copyists 
quite  of  ancient  thought ;   the    Mohammedan  took  the  same 


134  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

course ;    so  the  same  stale  story  is  wrapped  about  the  entire 
globe,  all  copied  from  earliest  pagan  religions. 

But  this  temple  of  horrors.  It  has  many  rooms  filled  with 
statuary,  —  judgment-day  scenes,  if  you  please.  Tlie  judges  are 
seated  there  in  royal  state,  austere  and  business-like.  The  good 
are  going  their  joyful  ways  unhurt;  but  the  bad  —  well,  to  put 
the  words  exact,  they  are  having  a  devil  of  a  time.  The  devils 
are  out  in  full  force,  skipping  about,  very  black  of  face  and  red 
of  e3'e  and  mouth,  cutting  and  slashing  right  and  left.  One 
unfortunate  is  hanng  his  eyes  gouged  out ;  all  are  weeping  tears 
of  blood  ;  blood  comes  trickling  from  their  nostrils,  ears,  and 
eyes ;  one  is  cleft  from  top  of  skull  to  neck  ;  others  hang  dis- 
embowelled, have  their  limbs  chopped  off,  heads  burned  off  in 
fire,  feet  stuck  into  pots  to  boil,  flesh  sliced  off,  heads  pierced 
through  with  nails,  tongues  torn  out  with  red-hot  forked  hooks ; 
others  run  head-first  into  the  hopper  of  a  mill  and  coming  out  be- 
low in  human  sausage-meat,  —  these  and  other  nameless  tortures 
are  here  sculptured  quite  as  large  as  life.  This  is  but  a  poor 
sketch,  only  a  hint  in  weakly  ink,  of  the  heathen  Chinee's  idea  of 
post-mortan  punishments,  —  a  little  more  naturalistic  perhaps 
than  ours  ;  but  ours  is  revelation,  and  of  course  there  can  be  no 
mistake  about  it.  Theirs  is  mere  pagan  guesswork ;  but,  after 
all,  the  two  don't  differ  much,  for  it  makes  small  odds  whether 
one  comes  to  be  made  into  eternal  grill  or  everlasting  sausage- 
meat.  After  having  studied  Dante  and  Milton,  Michael  Angelo 
and  the  Pisan  school,  it  is  not  amiss  to  come  to  Canton  temples 
or  Tientsin,  and  take  a  look  at  Chinese  art  as  it  forecasts  events 
of  the  great  last  day. 

The  day  before  yesterday  was  Thanksgiving  day  at  home.  They 
don't  know  or  care  much  about  our  great  American  holiday  out 
here  in  China.  They  will  take  a  good  strong  hand  at  Christmas 
and  New  Year's  ;  but  Thanksgiving  day  and  Fourth  of  July  are 
maskee,"  wo  account."  Yet  we  intended  to  have  the  day  of 
thanks  anyhow  ;  and  on  landing  here  we  straightway  despatched 
a  note  up  the  river  to  our  consul,  Mr.  Seymour,  requesting  his 
aid  in  securing  comfortable  quarters  and  his  attendance  upon  a 
thankful  jubilee  that  we  intended  to  give  in  Canton  on  the  last 
Thursday  in  November,  according  to  the  customs  of  the  fathers. 
Next  day  but  one  we  were  there.     Looking  up  this  man  of 


CHINA.  135 

foreign  service,  it  turned  out  that  while  he  had  received  our 
very  reasonable  request,  he  had  ignored  our  plans,  declared  his 
private  house  our  home,  and  assigned  us  chairs  and  plates  at  a 
spread  for  forty.  Remonstrance  was  rebellion  ;  for  on  this  little 
isle  of  Shameen,  separated  from  Canton  city  by  a  bridged  canal, 
this  useful  consul  man  has  absolute  control,  — ■  a  sort  of  human 
gunboat  that  has  to  be  obeyed.  He  is  keeper  of  the  American 
half-way  station  on  this  long  and  too  often  pathless  way  that 
leads  around  the  globe.  Within  his  heart  are  many  welcomes, 
and  in  his  bungalow  are  many  apartments  prepared  for  wanderers, 
where  the  weary  pilgrim  from  the  States  may  ever  find  a  wel- 
come and  a  crust,  lay  aside  his  dusty  shoon  and  staff,  and  bide 
and  rest  in  peace.  So  after  such  unexpected  welcome  and  a  day 
or  two  of  streets  and  shops,  towers  and  temples,  the  sun  went 
down  upon  our  toil,  and  twilight  hours  brought  hungry  thankful 
ones  within  the  portals  of  our  generous  host.  Covers  were  laid 
for  nearly  forty  guests,  and  no  one  bidden  stayed  away.  The 
Americans  numbered  twenty-six ;  others  were  from  England, 
Scotland,  Ireland  ;  and  some  of  them,  though  of  American  par- 
entage, were  natives  of  Canton,  one  of  Siam.  Such  was  our 
Cantonese  Thanksgiving  party  at  Mr.  Consul  Seymour's  house, 
half-way  around  the  world. 

But  what  do  people  find  to  eat  half-way  around  the  world, 
and  who  prepares  the  food  ? 

At  eight  o'clock  the  seats  were  filled  and  formal  grace  invoked. 
Looking  over  the  rows  of  faces  at  the  two  long  tables,  it  seemed 
to  be  a  well-organized  meeting  of  merchants,  diplomats,  mis- 
sionaries, men  of  customs,  and  a  pair  of  worldly  tourists.  Behind 
the  chairs,  with  covered  heads  and  silken  robes  of  blue,  the  nim- 
ble waiters  stood  dispensing  food.  Soups,  fish,  and  meats,  of 
various  kinds,  course  after  course  of  beef  and  mutton,  fish  and 
fowl,  vegetables,  roasts  and  stews,  pork  and  beans,  puddings 
and  jellies,  fruits  and  cake  and  wine,  all  served  in  perfect  order, 
and  eaten  with  much  chat  and  appetite.  The  cookery  was  all 
Chinese,  yet  you  would  not  have  known  it ;  for  the  man  of 
pots  and  kettles  had  been  for  many  years  in  American  employ, 
and  knew  just  how  to  prepare  each  dish  the  worthy  host  had  asked 
for.  The  dinner  was  bounteous  and  excellent,  and  followed  by 
such  post-prandial  talk  as  calls  to  mind  not  only  those  who  sit 
about  the  board,  but  those  who  were  not  present,  but  on  the 


136  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Other  hemisphere,  —  those  who  were  not,  as  we  were,  feasting  in 
the  early  stages  of  the  night,  but  who  had  just  then  thanked  and 
dined  and  slept,  and  were  eating  breakfast  underneath  our  very 
feet. 

Thanksgiving  dinners  here  are  much  the  same  as  at  home,  — 
a  social,  happy  gathering  of  old  and  young.  Turkeys  and  pump- 
kin pies  they  sometimes  have  this  way,  but  it  is  a  matter  of  much 
pure  calculation.  Turkeys  are  raised  to  some  extent  in  north- 
ern China,  but  in  Canton,  when  they  can  be  had  at  all,  they  cost 
a  dollar  or  two  per  pound.  We  saw  one  —  only  one  —  at 
Tientsin.  A  lad  in  silken  raiment  held  him  in  his  lap  and  fed 
him  from  a  bowl,  and  the  captain  bought  him  for  the  price  of  a 
good-sized  bullock  on  the  plains,  to  fill  an  order  for  a  Shanghai 
man.  So  we  ate  no  turkey,  for  the  reason  that  there  was  none 
in  Canton.  It  is  rather  strange  that,  with  all  the  christianizing 
influences  that  have  been  brought  to  bear  upon  tliese  Cantonese 
for  quite  two  hundred  years,  this  emblem  of  our  feasting  and 
the  well-trusted  subject  of  so  many  thanks  has  been  so  little 
popularized  in  China. 

The  guests  were  from  many  lands  and  States,  yet  there  was 
one  I  think  of  more  than  others.  He  had  passed  the  mark  of 
threescore  years  and  ten,  yet  were  his  days  not  dark  or  dreary. 
He  had  come  to  China  in  his  early  manhood,  more  than  fifty 
years  ago,  —  came  out  to  Canton  and  entered  on  his  work ; 
came  and  conquered  fortune,  and  went  home  again  a  millionnaire  ; 
still  kept  on  his  work,  sent  fleets  of  ships  to  sea,  and  gathered 
wealth  and  luxuries,  taking  his  rightfiil  rank  among  the  foremost 
merchants  of  the  world.  But  fickle  fortune  thought  to  break 
him  down.  His  ships  went  down  at  sea ;  cargoes  were  lost ; 
ventures  were  blighted ;  goods  sacrificed  in  many  ports  to  meet 
maturing  claims  ;  and  as  the  gale  swept  on,  and  piled  the  land 
and  sea  with  merchants'  wrecks,  in  that  frightful  storm  of  thirty 
years  ago,  nothing  was  left  to  Gideon  Nye  but  hope  and  faith 
and  honor.  If  fortune  seemed  to  smile  again  after  that  well- 
remembered  tempest,  it  was  only  seeming ;  and  to-day,  if  you 
come  to  visit  Canton,  you  will  find  him  here,  living  in  quiet 
rooms  on  the  Honan  side,  among  the  dark  old  hongs,  where 
once  great  wealth  in  teas  and  silks  were  stored,  —  a  short  and  trim 
old  man,  bright-eyed  and  silver-haired,  polite,  intelligent,  well- 
schooled,  —  a  clear-cut,  polished  gentleman  of  the  olden  time, 


CHINA.  137 

at  whose  feet  you  may  sit  for  hours  and  be  well  entertained. 
He  sits  among  the  desolation,  yet  speaks  no  plaintive  word ; 
talks  of  his  ships,  his  houses,  and  his  noble  gallery  of  art,  —  the 
best  New  York  then  had  ;  chats  of  the  men  he  knew,  —  the  mighty 
men  of  England  and  the  statesmen  with  whom  his  great  com- 
mercial scope  brought  him  in  yearly  contact ;  but  no  complaint 
escapes  his  lips.     Philosopher  as  he  is,  he  takes  as  his  maxim  — 

"  'T  is  better  to  have  won  and  lost 
Than  never  to  have  won  at  all." 

And  here  in  selfimposed  banishment,  among  his  old  Chinese 
and  European  friends,  he  leads  a  quiet,  wholesome,  happy  life. 
Happy,  I  say,  for  his  conduct  plainly  shows  it.  All  who  win 
and  hold  great  stakes  are  not  the  happiest  of  men ;  all  who  win 
and  lose  great  wealth  are  not  miserable.  For  there  is  that  good 
quality  in  men,  —  that  sterling  mental  metal  that  rises  superior 
to  all  distraint  and  ills,  and,  like  the  storm-swept  mountain  peaks, 
gathers  much  radiance  from  the  heavenly  sun.  Almost  twoscore 
years  have  come  and  gone  since  Gideon  Nye  stood  crowned 
a  merchant  prince.  How  many  could  you  count  on  the  wide 
world's  books  who  then  stood  high  in  wealth,  that  are  so  well 
off  to-day  as  he?  Many  are  the  wrecks,  and  with  the  wreck 
came  mental  death  and  physical  ruin  ;  but  if  you  meet  this  fair 
old  man  in  Canton  streets  to-day  you  will  see  no  sign  of  wreck 
of  mind  or  body,  but  a  most  courteous,  useful,  interesting  man. 

The  day  after  Thanksgiving  we  spent  among  the  shops  and 
temples,  visiting  the  better  class  of  Chinese  gentlemen,  —  such 
as  have  made  their  money,  they  or  their  parents,  and  now  live 
outside  the  rush  of  trade  and  take  their  tea  and  comfort. 

These  China  mission  hospitals  are  well  worth  seeing.  All  the 
mission  work  of  the  East  does  not  consist  of  Bible  stories  and 
teaching,  of  ministering  to  souls  distraught,  and  turning  people 
from  the  ways  of  the  special  wrath  of  an  offended  God ;  but 
there  are  those,  God  bless  them  too  !  who  minister  constantly  to 
the  aches  and  pains  and  ills  of  flesh  and  blood  and  bone.  Here 
at  Canton,  as  at  Pekin  and  several  other  points,  are  hospitals 
under  the  management  of  men  of  tact  and  skill,  who,  with  the 
knife  or  potion,  try  to  make  sick  men  whole.  Grand  men  are 
these,  and  women,  too,  who  thus  devote  their  hearts  and  lives 
to  such  as  cannot  help  themselves.     Great  good  is  done  by  this 


138  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

practical  Christianity  that  makes  the  lame  to  walk,  the  blind  to 
see,  and  the  sick  to  smile  again.  These  and  those  who  teach 
are  doing  something  that  the  world  must  surely  know  in  time ; 
something  that  appeals  more  to  the  supporting  purse  of  the 
Chinaman  than  all  else  could  do  beside.  It  is  coming  upon 
these  heathen  in  no  mean  way.  They  come  to  these  hospitals, 
and  many  find  the  relief  they  seek.  It  may  not  make  them 
Christians,  but  neither  Christianity  nor  money  forms  a  condition 
precedent ;  it  is  a  free  gift  to  needy  physical  nature,  and  as 
such  will  produce  in  time,  as  it  does  so  even  now,  a  happy 
harvest. 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  139 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA. 

Voyaging  on  the  China  Sea.  —  Life  on  a  French  Mail  Steamer.  —  Eating, 
Drinking,  and  Resting.  —  Skirting  the  Sumatra  Coast.  —  Crossing  the 
Equator.  —  A  Night  at  Singapore.  —  Climate  and  Costume. — A  Talk 
about  Tea.  —  The  Cup  that  may  Liebriate.  —  Some  Facts  for  Tea- 
Drinkers  at  Home.  —  A  Tarry  at  Batavia.  — Gridiron  Experiences. — 
A  Flight  to  the  Cooler  Uplands. 

HONG-KONG  was  left  behind  December  2,  and  eight  days 
by  this  swift  French  mail  boat,  the  "  Peiho,"  count- 
ing a  hot  day  at  Saigon,  will  set  us  down  in  Singapore  —  "  lion 
city  "  —  on  the  damp  Malacca  coast.  Ship  days  are  good  days, 
provided  always  the  ship  is  clean,  fast,  and  well-provisioned,  all 
of  which  this  one  was.  As  to  society,  it  is  pretty  much  as  you 
always  find  it  —  mixed.  We  have  the  American,  the  English- 
man, the  voluble  sons  of  France,  the  German,  Russian,  and  Ori- 
ental people  generally ;  passengers  in  blue  suits,  gray  suits,  black 
suits,  and  white  suits,  and  those  farther  afore  whose  raiment  is 
like  unto  that  which  the  old  version  says  Joseph  wore,  while 
others  more  nearly  imitate  the  closer-fitting  vestments  so  much 
the  rage  in  early  Eden  days.  Considering  this  torrid  climate,  — 
the  thermometer  having  a  fondness  for  the  upper  nineties,  —  it 
is  evident  to  my  mind  and  sense  that  the  nearer  one  can  come 
to  woven  thinness  and  not  invade  the  realm  of  naked  truth,  the 
better  he  is  clad. 

Life  on  these  extremely  Oriental  steamers  runs  about  this 
way  :  You  can  get  up  when  you  like,  get  your  coffee  when  you 
please,  —  have  it  in  your  state-room,  or  sit  in  your  pyjamas  at  the 
common  table,  and  sip  your  coffee,  eat  your  piece  of  bread  and 
butter,  and  take  things  easy.  You  are  allowed  to  luxuriate  in  your 
night-dress  and  slippers  till  eight  o'clock,  at  which  time  the  ladies 
are  supposed  to  get  about,  and  then  the  lords  of  creation  have  to 
renounce  their  airy  costumes  for  the  lesser  comforts  of  trousers 
and  shirt  and  coat.    The  easy  comfortable  morning  slipper,  also, 


140  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

gives  way  to  boots  or  shoes.  Real  breakfast  is  served  at  half- 
past  nine,  a  generous  breakfast  a  la  table  d'hote,  —  course  after 
course  of  meats  and  fish  and  vegetables,  with  bread  and  wine 
and  fruits  at  pleasure.  This  consumes  an  hour  or  more  ;  for  no 
one  orders  what  he  wants  and  has  it  all  brought  on  at  once,  but 
has  to  take  just  what  is  on  the  bill  of  fare,  —  take  it  or  leave  it, 
as  he  likes, —  and  wait  while  others  eat,  or  eat  while  others  wait ; 
winding  up  with  a  small  cup  of  vigorous  French  coffee,  with  a 
petite  verre  du  cognac,  singly  or  mixed,  just  as  one  feels  inclined. 
Your  French  bon  vivant  does  n't  care  for  coffee  slops,  but  prefers 
it  concentrated,  as  the  colonel  likes  his  cigars,  —  with  a  little 
touch  of  paralysis. 

When  breakfast  is  over  it  is  nearly  eleven  o'clock ;  then  we 
lounge  or  walk  about  the  spacious  deck  in  the  thick  awning's 
shade  ;  read,  chat,  smoke,  or  watch  the  deep  blue  sea.  The 
passengers  are  clannish.  French  bide  with  French,  and  Ger- 
mans with  Germans  ;  the  Britons  like  themselves  pretty  well ; 
and  it  is  usually  the  careless  Yankee  wlio  cuts  away  red  tape 
and  mixes  generally  in  society,  —  flies  the  robust  eagle,  and 
gets  what  new  ideas  he  can. 

But  don't  forget  the  tiffin.  "Tiffin  "  is  a  semi-barbarous  substi- 
tute for  that  better  word,  "  luncheon."  But  don't  forget  it.  It 
comes,  as  sure  as  hunger,  every  day  at  half-past  twelve.  The 
bell  rings  but  once  ;  and  if  you  wait  to  be  urged  by  a  second 
bell,  you  '11  get  left.  Tiffin  has  its  rather  goodish  cup  of  bouillon, 
a  weak,  hot,  pleasant  sort  of  soup,  served  in  large  handled  cof- 
fee-cups, with  a  spoon  and  soup-plate,  —  you  may  pour  it  in  the 
plate  and  eat  it  with  your  spoon,  or  be  more  dilatory  and  sip  it 
quietly,  as  though  it  were  a  cup  of  right  hot  tea ;  viands  im- 
paled in  cress ;  bread,  onions,  wine,  and  beer ;  fruits,  too,  and 
coffee,  —  that  same  delightful,  tiny  china  cup,  and  that  same 
glistening,  teasing  litde  glass  of  cognac. 

Then  we  mount  to  the  deck  again,  —  the  broad,  long,  well- 
scrubbed  teak  deck,  upon  which  you  might  sit  as  cleanly  as 
upon  your  chair,  the  great  white  awning  overhead  baffling  the 
sun's  sharp  rays.  Behind  the  awning  curtains  on  the  sunward 
side,  protected  all  around,  you  sit  and  smoke  and  chat,  or  read 
and  sleep,  fanned  by  the  soft  salt  breeze  that  the  swiftly  moving 
ship  wakes  up  and  sets  astir.  It  is  midday  ;  the  torrid  sun  is 
out,  and  in  an  open  boat  would  make  your  skin  look  like  the 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  I4I 

coolies'  hides,  — like  well-cured  bacon  rind.  In  the  shade  it's 
very  different ;  you  need  not  fret  or  suffer.  So,  with  this  lazy 
sort  of  life  you  pass  four  hours  more,  till  five  o'clock,  the  French 
ship's  dinner-hour.  Hungry?  Well,  rather  !  A  healthy,  good- 
dispositioned  fellow  is  almost  always  hungry  on  the  sea.  He 
has  nothing  else  to  do.  At  peace  with  the  world,  with  no  re- 
spect for  the  Devil ;  a  careful  eater,  with  perfect  digestion,  why 
should  n't  he  be  hungry  several  times  a  day  ? 

Table  iVIidte  again  ;  session  ninety  minutes ;  four  Chinese 
coolies  tugging  at  the  punkas, —  long  white-winged  fans  that 
stir  the  stagnant  air  into  refreshing  ripples,  putting  one  at  per- 
fect ease.  The  bill  of  fare  is  long,  and  of  French  ingenuity. 
You  may  not  always  know  exactly  what  you  are  eating ;  but  as 
it  is  all  good,  you  go  ahead  and  ask  no  questions.  For  the  first 
five  minutes  of  the  Frenchman's  dinner,  he  utters  not  a  word ; 
inclines  himself  to  internal  communion.  His  soup  swallowed  by 
silent  spoonfuls,  he  breaks  a  bit  of  bread,  pours  forth  a  glass  of 
wine,  then  tastes  his  bread  and  sips  his  wine,  and  then  begins  to 
chat,  —  at  first  slowly,  then  in  faster,  snatchy  sentences  ;  and  as 
the  food  comes  on  and  ruby  claret  flows,  so  come  his  words  and 
flows  his  speech  in  rapid,  constant,  almost  breathless  ratde.  All 
talk  together  ;  no  one  man  knows  or  can  know  what  the  others 
say  ;  and  it  does  n't  matter  much,  for  dinner  talk  is  only  din- 
ner talk,  done  for  digestion,  not  for  use.  The  courses  come  and 
go ;  the  punkas  cool  the  air ;  the  little  rill  of  chat  becomes  a 
flowing  river.  The  menu  spent,  appetites  gone,  and  the  orange 
and  banana  rinds,  with  skins  of  grapes  and  shells  of  nuts,  heaped 
upon  your  plate,  then  for  the  third  time  in  the  day  comes  that 
dainty  little  china  cup,  that  glistening  condensed  coffee-pot ; 
and  on  its  silver  salver,  tiptoeing  on  behind,  the  little  crystal 
thimble  glass,  —  the  Frenchy,  glinting  petite  verre  du  cognac. 

The  deck,  the  cigars,  the  quiet  after-dinner  promenade  be- 
neath the  southern  sky  ;  the  pole-star  dipping  low,  the  southern 
cross  abreast;  the  pale  new  moon  just  sinking  in  the  west, — 
right  over  your  right  shoulder  there,  lying  as  you  never  saw  it  lie 
before,  full  flat  upon  its  back,  a  tiny  silver  boat  upon  a  sea  of 
lazuline.  From  half-past  six  to  eight  o'clock  is  ninety  minutes 
more.  Then  the  table  bell  rings  again.  More  food  is  served 
below,  —  this  time  come  cake  and  tea  and  lemonade.  Choose 
which  you  like,  and  sip  another  little  while,  and  the  day's  work 


142  A    GIRDLE  ROUND   THE  EARTH, 

is  done.  You  pace  the  deck,  or  stretch  yourself  and  talk  or 
biooze,  or  burn  Virginia  incense,  till  the  starlight  hours  creep  on 
towards  next  day ;  you  think  of  the  good  day's  work  you  've 
done  ;  of  the  good  friends  beneath  your  chair  who  are  just  get- 
ting out  of  bed  to  get  their  morning  meal ;  and  wishing  them 
good-night  and  good  luck,  turn  down  your  light  and  turn  your- 
self in  for  a  good  eight  hours'  sleep. 

Such  is  our  life  upon  the  China  Sea.  A  month  ago  to-day 
we  were  frozen  in  upon  the  Pei  Ho  River,  clad  in  overcoats  and 
double  wraps  of  thick  Siberian  fur ;  to-day  in  ten-ounce  garbs 
we  sit  and  wonder  if  there  is  real  winter  anywhere.  Two  hours 
ago  we  left  Saigon,  the  French  colony  of  Cochin  China,  some 
sixty  miles  from  the  ocean,  up  a  wide  and  crooked  river,  —  a 
place  where  only  French  and  natives  live  ;  a  city  of  neat  streets, 
houses,  shops,  and  gardens.  It  revels  in  luxuriant  vegetation, — 
a  turf  that  never  pales,  trees  that  never  lose  their  robes  of  green, 
and  fruits  and  flowers  perennial ;  here  even  mildest  frost  or 
least  suggestive  wintry  breath  is  never  known  to  come.  The 
people  swarm  in  millions  —  so  do  mosquitoes  ;  but  it  is  a  land 
of  plenty  and  of  nakedness.  Rarest  flowers  bloom  perennially  ; 
fuel  nor  clothing  figures  much  in  the  family  calculations,  —  a  sort 
of  dreamy,  luscious,  tropic  land,  where  real  want  stands  a  good 
way  off".  Of  course  we  all  pity  these  black-and-tan  genera- 
tions because  they  don't  pile  on  more  clothes  and  believe  in  our 
sort  of  heaven  and  hell ;  but  that  does  n't  seem  to  fret  them 
much.  The  big,  round,  generous  sun  smiles  down  upon  his 
naked  ones,  and  places  within  their  easy  reach  such  things  as 
we  call  luxuries.  Happy  children  of  the  sun  !  we  '11  sail  away, 
nor  leave  on  your  account  a  single  tear  behind. 

Thirty  hours  skirting  the  Sumatra  coast  brings  our  good 
French  ship  into  the  straits  of  Eanka,  —  half-way  from  Singapore 
to  the  isle  of  Java,  best  known  of  the  Malay  Isles,  perhaps  be- 
cause our  coffee  comes  from  there.  Yesterday  at  four  o'clock 
we  crossed  the  equatorial  line,  —  the  line  that  splits  the  globe 
in  two,  and  fences  the  northern  from  the  southern  half.  Though 
watching  attentively,  none  saw  it ;  but  then  the  tide  was  high, 
and  it  must  have  been  quite  underwater.  Temperature  at  cross- 
ing, eighty-four  degrees,  a  close,  damp  heat,  the  sun  obscured 
by  soft  and  fleecy  clouds,  which  here  and  there  within  our  easy 
sight  had  darkened  into  showery  masses.     Water,  grayish  green. 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  1 43 

showing  its  shallowness.  Here,  in  the  centre  of  the  watery  world, 
the  sun  shines  less,  perhaps,  than  you  would  think.  Days  and 
nights  are  much  the  same  in  heat  and  length ;  and  as  to  real 
comfort  it  matters  very  little  whether  night  comes  on  or  not,  for 
unless  there  comes  a  squall  of  rain,  the  same  amount  of  clothing 
serves  for  both.  We  go  to  bed  in  compliment  to  usage ;  go  be- 
low, and  between  open  door  and  open  port  stretch  out  upon  a 
couch,  because  it  is  a  couch  ;  but  just  as  well,  and  better,  too, 
we  sleep  on  deck  among  the  stars  upon  a  lounging  chair  beneath 
the  wide-stretched  awning,  —  sleeping  and  waking,  listening  to 
the  mild  seething  of  the  phosphorescent  sea,  or  quietly  burning 
there  some  incense  to  the  sleepless  and  lustrous  stars. 

•  ••••** 

Last  night  but  one  we  slept  at  Singapore,  the  city  of  the 
straits,  —  a  pretty  English-Indo-Chinese  town,  with  bright  green 
grassy  lawns  enshrined  in  luscious  foliage  ;  eternal,  buoyant  leaf- 
age, living  forever  on  the  soft,  warm  breath  of  an  undying  tropic 
summer,  apart  from  wintry  blasts,  beyond  the  thought  of  frost, 
beyond  the  lack  of  flowers  and  fruit.  Dinner  done  at  eight,  —  and 
bad  enough  at  that,  —  my  bare-headed  boy  in  calico,  with  gayly 
harnessed  pony,  squatted  upon  the  whiffletree,  and  drove  me  in 
his  coolly  latticed  four-wheeled  cab  to  this  neatly  furnished  ship, 
that  in  the  early  morning  would  sail  six  hundred  miles  away,  — 
a  sixty-hour  voyage  to  Batavia,  in  Java.  The  land  was  pleasant, 
but  the  sea  was  better ;  and  at  full  length  on  a  long,  cool,  rattan 
chair,  the  night  was  spent  among  softly  soothing  zephyrs  and  in 
sweetest  sleep.  The  hot  and  sleepless  tropic  nights  they  told  us 
of  were  certainly  not  here.  The  blistering  days  in  which  people 
gasp  for  air  most  surely  are  somewhere  else ;  and  the  vigilant 
mosquito  —  he  does  n't  seem  to  live  here  half  as  much  as  in 
the  northern  zone.  Altogether,  we  found  this  equatorial  region 
far  better  than  represented.  You  don't  want  lots  of  clothes  at 
eighty-five  degrees,  —  pantaloons  and  a  coat  close-buttoned  to  the 
chin  are  quite  enough.  That  horrid,  bald-faced,  stiff  and  starchy 
shirt  and  stiff  annoying  collar  are  much  unfavored  here,  and 
ought  to  be,  —  here  and  everywhere.  We  talk  of  women's  sla- 
very to  fashion,  as  though  men  were  not  enslaved.  Nonsense  ! 
Go  to  a  stylish  ball,  as  we  did  at  Saint  Andrew's  Festival  at 
Hong-Kong  one  night  last  week.  Ladies  were  there  in  white, 
or  cream,  or  black,  or  colored  silks  and  stuffs    to    suit   their 


144  -^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

own  good  taste ;  with  corsage  high,  or  yet  decollete ;  ruches  or 
fichus ;  sleeves  quite  long,  or  short,  or  none ;  short  skirts  or 
trained  ;  shoes  of  various  shades,  heels  high  or  low,  —  in  short, 
they  know  no  law  in  these  fine  party  suits.  They  made 
upon  the  floor  a  real  flower-garden  of  many  a  fine  conceit  and 
tint.  But  now  bring  out  your  man.  Stand  him  up ;  turn  him 
around,  —  a  hundred  of  them  if  you  like,  —  no  two  different, 
as  if  the  tailors  knew  no  other  way  to  get  them  up  :  feet  cased 
in  black  and  hands  in  white  ;  legs,  arms,  and  trunk  in  glossy 
black ;  a  spade-tailed  rear  for  every  one ;  and  plastered  o'er 
the  upper  front  a  broad  triangled  space  of  glistening,  dreary 
white,  with  white  cravat  and  white  unyielding  collar,  —  the  whole 
devoid  of  sense  or  taste ;  a  doleful-looking  lot,  dressed  in  that 
stupid  way  because  it  is  the  fashion,  poor,  helpless  souls  !  —  a 
fashion  that  they  do  not  dare  to  break.  They  seem  a  lot  of 
dapper  table  waiters  who  forgot  to  bring  their  napkins,  come 
to  disport  themselves  a  little  in  a  ball-room. 

All  the  way  upon  our  right  we  skirt  Sumatra's  jagged  coast, 
sometimes  lying  flat  and  low,  then  rising  high,  but  always  richly 
green.  Here  on  the  left  is  Banka,  a  long  and  narrow  fruit  and 
coffee  bearing  isle.  Between  the  two  for  many  an  hour  we  glide 
along,  as  down  a  broad,  clear  river,  the  sun  obscured,  the  heat 
but  eighty-five,  —  the  common  heat,  they  say,  for  all  the  year 
round.  Sumatra  and  these  other  isles  of  Borneo  and  Java,  and 
the  lesser  ones,  are  the  land  of  the  coca,  mango,  mangosteen,  and 
cocoa-nut ;  land  of  rare  spices  and  perfumes ;  land  of  coffee 
and  quinine  ;  land,  too,  of  reptiles  and  ferocious  beasts,  —  a 
real  play-ground  of  the  earthquake,  volcano,  and  typhoon. 
Worst  of  all  these  is  Borneo,  perhaps,  —  about  as  large  as  Texas, 
—  abounding  in  savages,  —  a  godless  race,  they  say,  with  whom 
the  missionary  disciples  of  Buddha,  Christ,  or  INIahomet  have 
made  as  yet  no  progress.  Diamonds  and  discovery  are  said  to 
tempt  men  there,  but  often  to  destruction. 

But  suppose  we  change  the  subject,  and  as  the  ship  ploughs 
through  the  watery  waste  and  warmth,  we  chat  of  something 
else. 

Do  you  drink  tea?  Some  people  do,  and  call  it  good,  —  a  cup 
that  cheers  but  does  n't  inebriate.  Let  us  see  about  that.  A 
month  ago  or  so,  on  the  "  Fung  Chun,"  we  were  running  from  the 
frozen  north  to  catch  up  with  the  summer  sun,  when  there  arose 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  1 45 

some  talk  of  tea.  A  Chinese  admiral,  with  his  train  of  more 
than  thirty  servants,  was  along,  and  tea  flowed  rather  freely. 
You  may  have  heard  the  fiction  —  most  tea-drinkers  have  —  that 
we  get  no  good  teas  in  America,  very  little  in  Europe,  for  the 
stupid  reason  that  the  sea  voyage  spoils  the  flavor,  odor,  or  some- 
thing, of  the  precious  herb  ;  that  if  you  really  want  good  tea,  tea 
in  all  its  glory,  you  must  drink  it  hot  in  China  or  in  those  east- 
ern Europe  lands  to  which  the  herb  comes  overland  by  steppe, 
sledge,  and  caravan.  That  is  a  whopper  !  It  is  said  that  you  can 
invent  a  lie  and  tell  it  so  often  that  it  will  seem  to  you,  in  time, 
like  truth.  This  tea  lie  is  one  of  that  stamp,  and  not  only  the 
teller,  but  half  the  world  has  really  caught  it  up  for  truth.  Tea 
is  no  more  injured  by  a  sea  voyage  than  tapioca  is.  It  crosses 
the  sea  hermetically  sealed  in  lead  or  tin,  and  if  it  had  any  fra- 
grance when  it  started  —  which  much  of  it  has  not  —  it  holds  it 
through  the  voyage ;  but  when  the  seal  is  broken,  and  air  and 
light  get  in,  the  evanescent  aroma  speedily  takes  flight.  The 
best  way  is  to  buy  the  best  brands,  —  provided  always  that  you 
know  what  they  are,  —  buy  in  smallest  packages,  and  use  it  as 
soon  as  you  can  after  it  is  broken.  Large  packages,  long  ex- 
posed in  grocery  stores,  lose  very  much  of  their  flavor  before  the 
lot  is  sold. 

But  which  are  the  best  of  teas,  —  those  of  greatest  local  charm 
and  value  ?  They  are  such  as  you  would  not  have  or  drink. 
Taste  in  tea  is  something  like  taste  in  whiskey,  tobacco,  or  Lim- 
burger  cheese.  A  toper  addicted  to  cheap  rum  would  die  of 
thirst  on  ripe  champagne  ;  a  sailor  clinging  to  his  jet-black,  vit- 
riolic, and  vicious  plug  would  throw  away  true  natural  golden- 
leaf;  and  he  who  bides  by  rank  Limburger  cheese  would  thank 
you  little  for  a  creamy  curd.  So,  too,  in  teas,  people  like  the 
stuff  they  have  got  used  to,  without  reference  to  its  real  merit; 
as,  for  instance,  a  large  share  of  Americans  are  now,  and  long 
have  been,  drinking  what  the  Chinaman  calls  "  lie  "  tea. 

"  Lie  "  tea  is  recast  tea.  Suppose  we  are  in  Shanghai.  It 's 
the  same  anywhere  ;  but  we  will  take  Shanghai.  In  old  and  new 
Shanghai  a  million  people  live,  all  of  whom  drink  good  fair  aver- 
age tea,  five  millions  of  cups  a  day.  This  takes  several  thousand 
pounds  of  first-hand  tea,  and  makes  a  lot  of  "  grounds."  The 
houses,  tea-shops,  restaurants,  hotels,  or  what  not,  save  their 
"  grounds,"  have  a  leaky-bottom  dish  or  two  into  which  the  wet 

10 


146  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

tea-grounds  are  cast.  The  water  drains  off,  and  every  day  or 
two  the  tea-grounds  man  comes  round,  as  it  is  his  business  to 
do,  and  gathers  up  this  stuff,  sells  it  to  the  "lie"  tea-makers, 
who  dry  it  out  in  broad  spaces  in  the  sun,  mix  in  a  little  un- 
used tea,  add  coloring,  and  recast  and  nicely  box  it  up  for  for- 
eign markets.  The  Chinaman  does  n't  use  this  tea.  He  knows 
better.  If  he  is  poor  he  gets  the  cheap  stem  tea,  worth  about 
five  dollars  a  bushel,  and  uses  that.  The  "  lie  "  tea  goes  to 
you,  and  you,  and  you,  to  drink  at  morning,  noon,  and  night. 
How  has  this  come  to  pass?  Because  people  will  have  cheap 
tea.  To  enable  first  hands  to  sell  it  cheaply  it  must  be  cheap, 
and  second-hand  goods  of  almost  any  kind  are  always  cheaper 
than  new. 

Hyson  means  "before  the  rain."  Tea  picked  before  the 
rain  has  washed  the  leaf  is  better  than  tea  picked  after  rain. 
"  Young  "  or  "  Old  "  Hyson  only  relates  to  the  age  of  the  leaf, 

—  the  new  or  young  and  tender  leaf  being  preferred,  and  it 
should  bear  a  better  price.  Among  black  teas  (and  blacks  are 
more  often  "  proper  "  tea  than  greens) ,  Oolong  ranks  high.  The 
word  means  "  black  dryer,"  —  that  is,  it  dries  black.  Souchong 
means  "  small  leaf"  Conyon  means  prepared  or  "  doctored  " 
teas.  The  word  "  tea  "  is  unknown  in  China,  save  in  Amoy, 
where  it  is  pronounced  much  as  the  French  pronounce  it,  — 
not  "  tea,"  but  "  th6,"  the  final  e  like  a.  In  Pekinese  it  is  cha; 
in  Cantonese  it  is  cho ;  in  Japanese  it  is  cha,  again. 

But  the  fat  old  admiral  has  been  kept  sitting  long  enough.  Let 
us  call  him  up.  We  were,  as  I  have  said,  on  our  way  from  Tien- 
tsin to  Shanghai,  on  the  good  ship  "  Fung  Chun."  Among  other 
things  brought  forth  was  a  sample  of  choice  Japan  tea  which  the 
moosme  had  bought  for  me  near  Nara.  The  Chinese  interpreter 
tasted  it  and  had  a  sample  brewed,  and  liked  it ;  but  he  was  Eng- 
lish. The  admiral  got  interested  and  took  a  taste,  but  did  n't 
care  for  it ;  he  was  a  mandarin,  rich,  and  knew  of  better  things. 
So,  later  on,  by  the  interpreter,  he  sent  me  a  sample  of  his  tea, 

—  a  tablespoonful  of  greenish-yellow  stuff  that  looked  more 
like  leaves  of  sage  than  tea.  Breathing  hard  upon  it,  there 
came  a  smell  —  an  herbish  sort  of  odor  —  not  much  like  tea. 
Eating  some  leaves,  it  seemed  like  eating  herbs,  not  tea.  At 
dinner,  calling  the  steward  and  handing  him  the  little  package 
the  admiral  had  kindly  sent,  I  asked  him  to  make  me  a  large 


THE  ISLE    OF  JAVA.  1 47 

cup  of  tea,  Chinese  fashion,  —  "  proper."  He  brought  it  on  in 
time,  the  leaves  swimming  on  the  top  and  all  through  it.  Re- 
moving the  little  earthen  lid  which  rests  atop  of  real  China  cups, 
I  took  a  sip.  It  surely  was  n't  tea,  but  herb-drink  of  some  un- 
known sort.  The  leaves  were  large  and  perfect,  and  looked  like 
sage,  but  they  were  not  green  or  black,  but  very  light.  I  kept 
on  drinking,  and  by  the  time  I  had  swallowed  one  half  the  cup 
my  head  swam  with  such  sensations  as  one  gets  from  rapid  whirl- 
ing. Speaking  to  the  interpreter  about  it,  he  was  astonished  that  it 
had  all  been  brewed  at  once.  \Miy,  there  was  enougli  for  at  least 
ten  times,  "  and  if  you  drink  that  cup  of  tea  you  can't  sleep  for 
ten  hours  !  "  My  head  spun  merrily,  but  eating  on  and  sipping 
now  and  then,  I  drank  it  all  and  took  the  chances.  My  blood 
tingled  from  top  to  toe  ;  but  after  two  hours'  rest  I  went  off  to  bed, 
and  slept  eight  hours.  "  Well,"  said  the  lingster  man  next  morn- 
ing, "  you  've  simply  got  no  nerves.  I  would  not  have  taken 
that  tea  for  anything.  It  would  have  kept  me  awake  four  nights, 
and  I  advise  you  not  to  repeat  what  you  have  done.  That  tea 
is  Mandarin,  and  costs  not  less  than  fifty  dollars  a  pound.  Not 
ranch  of  it  is  raised,  and  none  exported." 

I  had  heard  these  big  stories  of  the  cost  of  tea.  The  "  Fung 
Chun  "  engineer,  a  snarly  little  Scotchman,  told  me  how  he  had 
sent  to  his  good  old  mother  on  the  Clyde  a  Christmas  gift  of  forty- 
dollar  tea ;  and  others  had  talked  of  such  like  precious  pounds, 
but  —  well,  in  travel,  the  best  way  is  to  dispute  with  none,  as- 
sent to  all  you  hear,  and  let  it  go  for  truth.  But  for  my  own 
drinking,  none  the  less,  ten  cents  a  pound  would  have  been  too 
much  for  Mandarin  tea,  for  it  had  little  tea-taste  about  it.  But 
it  teaches  this  :  that  tea  not  only  cheers,  but  may  inebriate.  It 
teaches  more  :  that  tastes  most  widely  differ ;  and  more  than 
this,  the  triteness  of  that  old-time  adage  that  declares  to  us  that 
where  ignorance  bringeth  satisfaction,  wisdom  is  dear  at  any 
price. 

But  possibly  having  detected  at  the  roots  of  my  nose  an  un- 
believing sneer  at  his  fifty-dollar-a- pound  story,  the  interpreter 
went  on  to  emphasize  what  he  had  said,  to  lead  us  deeper  still 
into  the  maze  of  wonderment,  by  saying  :  "  There  is  a  kind  called 
Pun  Cha,  raised  in  small  quantity  in  a  single  province,  that  is 
most  dear  of  all.  Pun  Cha  is  the  imperial  tea,  —  is  drunk  within 
the  '  forbidden  city '  by  the  imperial  family,  where  it  is  taken 


148  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

in  gilded  sacred  boxes  once  every  year  with  solemn  step  and 
serious  music,  to  be  laid  at  the  feet  of  majesty.  This  tea,  this 
mundane  essence  of  the  golden  sun,  costs  twenty  dollars  an 
ounce  ! " 

Taking  a  fresh  cigar,  we  went  forth  on  the  deck  among  the 
boreal  zephyrs  and  the  twinkling  stars.  The  man  in  the  moon 
had  no  remark  to  make  ;  the  Pleiadiac  sisters  uttered  not  a 
word ;  the  Dipper's  handle  swung  toward  the  restless  brine  ; 
but  to  my  distraught  mind  came  forth  the  scriptural  words  with 
cogent  weight :  "  All  men  are  liars." 

I  don't  much  care  for  tea  of  any  sort,  —  surely  not  for  fifty- 
dollar  tea ;  the  stuff,  by  parity  of  reasoning,  worth  almost  seven 
times  that  sum,  would  make  of  me  a  drivelling  maniac,  ^^'hat 
then?  Take  what  the  gods  and  grocers  give  you,  and  wisely 
rest  content.  No  matter  how  good  or  bad  a  man  your  grocer 
may  be,  poor  soul,  he  sells  tea  as  you  drink  it —  in  igno- 
rance. He  will  not  change  his  ways,  nor  will  you  yours. 
You  will  go  on  soaking  yourselves  with  "  lie  "  tea  and  Oolong, 
and  count  your  board  well  served.  Be  ignorant;  be  happy. 
In  China,  drink  tea ;  in  Java,  coffee.  That  may  do  in  theory. 
The  practice  is  questionable ;  for  in  China  they  don't  always 
brew  the  sort  of  tea  you  might  care  to  drink  ;  and  in  Ja\a 
I  have  had  as  poor  a  cup  of  coffee  as   ever  outraged  human 

lips. 

.  •  •  • 

We  came  to  Java  because  it  is  the  best  of  all  the  Malay 
islands,  —  owned  by  the  Dutch,  as  most  of  them  are.  Java  is 
about  the  size  of  Iowa,  —  picturesque  in  scenery,  violent  as  to 
volcanoes  and  earthquakes,  abounding  in  nuts,  fruits,  spices,  cof- 
fee, tea,  Dutch  tiles,  and  Dutch  enterprise.  The  name  is  not 
derived  from  the  coffee  of  that  name,  nor  is  coffee  derived  from 
Java,  except  by  adoption.  The  jSIalay  word  is  jayah,  and 
means  "nutmeg."  The  island  is  said  to  contain  twenty  millions 
of  natives,  who  permit  themselves  to  be  governed  by  some 
twenty  thousand  Dutch  and  thirty  thousand  soldiers,  who  do 
it  very  well,  and  manage  to  send  home  to  the  "  mother  country" 
about  $5,000,000  yearly,  besides  what  they  add  to  their  own  ex- 
tensive possessions.  Java  has  fine  railroads  and  not  a  beggar. 
As  to  religion,  the  natives  are  Buddhistic  and  Mohammedan, 
few  Christians,  and  the  Dutch  mostly  moneytheistic.     No  mis- 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  1 49 

sion  folks  arc  tolerated  ;  the  rulers  let  their  subjects  believe  in 
their  old  religion.  It  is  the  home,  is  Java,  of  the  deadly  upas- 
tree,  which,  if  you  care  to  credit  the  legend,  grows  in  the  valley 
of  death,  and  has  such  malignant  properties  that  none  care  to 
venture  there,  or  tell  you  where  it  is  ;  but  they  do  say  that 
all  who  lay  them  down  to  rest  beneath  its  thick  shade  arise  no 
more  in  sound  mind ;  that  the  birds  that  skim  the  air  above  its 
branches  fall  dead  upon  the  ground.  If  this  is  all  fiction,  I  am 
glad  of  it ;  yet,  like  many  a  fable,  it  has  some  ground  in  fact. 
For  over  there  on  the  mountain  range  is  an  extinct  crater,  in 
the  bowl  of  which  is  a  lake  of  acid  water  —  sulphuric  acid  —  in 
which,  of  course,  no  life  exists.  And  from  this  lake  flows  forth  a 
river  which  contains  no  life,  and  at  its  confluence  with  the  ocean 
the  fish  that  swim  within  it  die. 

It  is  two  days'  steam  from  Singapore  to  Batavia,  say  sixty 
hours.  Our  ship  was  rather  fast,  and  brought  us  here  in  fifty, — 
to  her  anchorage,  out  in  the  open  sea,  called  a  harbor,  whence 
a  lighter  takes  us  through  several  miles  of  shallow  water  between 
two  stout  brick  sea  walls,  on  by  canal  right  up  into  the  city. 

Batavia,  the  chief  port,  is  a  dead  level,  —  a  place  of  thrift,  with 
fine  streets,  steam  tramways,  canals,  good  houses,  Chinese  ped- 
lers,  and  no  end  of  the  most  vigorous  tropical  vegetation.  The 
grounds  and  yards  abound  in  noble  cocoa-palms,  the  broad- 
leaved  banana,  the  kingly  sycamore  and  tamarind,  and  flowering 
trees  and  shrubs,  fruit-trees  and  bamboo,  rose-bushes,  parasites, 
and  vines,  —  a  very  paradise  to  look  upon.  But  it  is  hot !  —  not 
as  the  mercury  marks  it,  — it  was  only  eighty-eight  last  night  at 
six,  —  but  a  damp  and  lifeless  suffocating  heat  that  makes  us  think 
of  home.  Our  hotel  was  charming,  but  to  keep  on  terms  with 
comfort  you  must  keep  still.  At  night,  I  really  didn't  think 
sleep  possible,  but  getting  inside  the  curtains  of  the  big  four- 
posted  bed  and  tumbling  about  awhile  upon  a  mattress  seven 
feet  square,  I  went  off"  before  I  knew  it  into  a  solid  seven  hours' 
sleep.  These  tropical  Dutch  beds  are  marvels  of  comfort.  Seven 
feet  square  is  the  size  of  a  single  bed.  What  a  family  bed  would 
be,  you  may  imagine.  There  are  a  matti-ess  and  a  linen  sheet, 
two  pillows,  and  a  "  Dutch  wife."  This  latter  is  round  and 
three  feet  long,  and  if  you  feel  too  warm  and  want  more  venti- 
lation, why,  skid  yourself  upon  it  at  any  point  you  like.  It  is 
said  to  be  a  cooling  comfort,  but  I  did  very  well  without  it. 


150  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

To  tarry  in  Batavia  was  to  be  grilled  alive.  So,  hearing  of 
high  land  and  cool  breezes  two  hundred  miles  away,  and  having 
to  stay  in  this  volcanic  land  an  even  week  before  the  "  Godavery  " 
would  come  to  take  us  back  to  Singapore,  we  travelled  early ; 
took  the  train  for  Bandong  town,  two  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea.  These  trains  run  upon  a  smooth,  narrow  track,  over  a  well- 
ballasted  bed,  and  comprise  a  low  but  strong  engine  with  cab, — 
no  air  brakes,  — -  coaches  for  three  classes,  and  women  by  them- 
selves, —  that  is,  the  native  women,  except  only  Dutchmen's 
wives.  The  third  class  have  wooden  benches,  and  are  open  all 
around,  like  a  shed.  The  second  class  have  rattan  seats  across 
one  side  of  the  car,  with  a  long  bench  upon  the  other.  First- 
class  accommodations  are  furnished  for  only  eight  persons  on 
this  train,  showing  that  very  few  are  expected  to  go  that  way. 
Our  compartment  was  twelve  feet  long.  The  seats  along  the 
sides,  beneath  two  spacious  windows,  were  upholstered  in  stiff 
tawny  leather,  and  furnished  with  six  round  leather  pillows.  The 
floor  had  rubber  matting.  Off  one  end  was  a  toilet-room.  The 
middle  compartment  was  for  native  women ;  the  third  for 
second-class  passengers.  The  entire  car  was  thirty-six  feet  long, 
and  weighed  three  and  a  half  tons.  It  was  mounted  on  six 
wheels,  —  a  pair  at  each  end  and  at  the  middle.  How  this  plan  of 
wheels  admitted  of  making  sharp  curves  is  difficult  to  tell ;  but 
it  did,  and  that  was  enough.  The  midway  station,  called  Tjian- 
joer,  gave  us  a  nice  dinner,  —  curry,  and  eight  kinds  of  condi- 
ments of  various  kinds  along  with  it ;  nice  broiled  chicken,  tender 
beefsteak,  bananas,  pine-apple,  and  the  famous  mangosteen.  The 
colonel  had  been  longing  for  a  bite  of  this  rare  tropic  fruit ;  and 
tasting  it  with  tenderest  regards,  like  one  who  had  sought  his 
dearest  wish  and  found  it,  he  declared  that  life  was  well  worth 
living  after  all ;  that  typhoon  tempests,  earthquakes,  northern  ice 
and  frosts,  bad  fare,  hard  beds,  mosquitoes,  fleas,  and  even 
cheese,  were  all  worth  enduring  for  the  sake  of  one  ecstatic  feast 
of  the  rare  mangosteen.  For  my  part,  while  there  may  be  less 
poetry  in  a  big  golden  Bellfleur  apple  or  juicy  Florida  orange, 
I  'd  rather  have  either,  or  a  plate  of  strawberries  and  cream,  than 
any  foreign  fruit  within  my  present  knowledge. 

Bandong  is  an  upland  city  in  a  forest  of  palms,  bananas,  and 
flowering  trees.  Fine  level  streets,  neat  dwellings,  countless  na- 
tive stores,  are  embowered  within  these  bewitching  palms  and 


THE  ISLE   OF  JAVA.  I5I 

sycamores,  among  the  flowery  bowers  and  lawns  and  natty 
hedges,  among  the  wealth  of  fruit  and  nuts  and  gorgeous  foliage. 
It  is  difficult  to  realize  that  this  is  really  winter,  —  that  here,  while 
northern  lands  are  chained  in  ice,  these  trees  have  all  the  ram- 
pant luxuriance  of  jovial  June,  bearing  luscious  ripe  and  ripen- 
ing fruits  and  buds  and  blossoms  ;  and  yet  the  air  is  cool,  and 
brings,  if  one  keeps  fairly  still,  no  sensation  of  over-heat.  The 
native  dwellings  here  are  set  up  a  foot  or  so  from  the  ground, 
for  better  ventilation.  They  are  slightly  framed  of  bamboo, 
walled  with  plaited  basket-work,  and  roofed  with  pale-red  tiles 
or  thatch,  having  every  look  of  cool  comfort.  The  people  dress 
modestly,  in  rather  gay,  bright-colored  prints,  and  seem  to  en- 
joy themselves  in  quiet  work  and  ways.  Turbans  of  gayly  col- 
ored cotton  stuff  wrapped  about  the  head  are  worn  by  the  men. 
The  women  go  bare-headed,  or  wear  a  scarf  of  silk  or  print 
thrown  carelessly  above  their  hair.     All  go  with  naked  feet. 

At  Tjianjoer  we  took  a  cart,  —  a  two-wheeled,  double-seated, 
low  top,  three-horse  trap,  —  and  cramping  our  long  limbs  within 
the  meagre  space,  drove  off  to  Sindanglaya,  up  among  the  cool 
green  hills,  to  spend  the  Sunday  at  this  old  Dutch  sanitarium. 
And  here  we  are,  embowered  among  the  trees,  in  cool  matted 
rooms,  with  four-post  beds  enclosing  forty-nine  square  feet  of 
actual  sleeping  space  within  their  white  lace  curtains,  — -high,  spa- 
cious rooms,  opening  on  a  porch  full  twenty  feet  in  width,  and 
furnished  with  most  roomy  easy-chairs.  And  here  we  come  to 
rest  beneath  the  shade,  and  stretch  our  limbs,  and  sleep  within 
the  sound  of  pure  and  plashing  water.  It  rained  at  dark,  as  is 
the  winter  fashion  here  ;  and  at  the  early  dawn,  when  the  bare- 
footed Malay  boy  brought  in  a  morning  cup  of  tea,  the  sky  was 
leaking  yet.  It  had  been  a  real  wintry  night,  —  temperature 
as  low  as  sixty-seven  degrees ;  but  as  the  day  wears  on  it  gets 
back  again  to  eighty.  Down  in  Batavia  it  is  ninety  or  more, 
without  a  breath  of  air. 

Sindanglaya  is  a  cool  resort  for  invalids.  Here  mothers  come 
to  nurse  their  puny  babes ;  consumptives,  too,  find  here  a  drier, 
safer  air  than  on  the  coast ;  and  now  and  then  travellers,  like 
ourselves,  unused  to  such  a  hot  and  sodden  air  as  the  low  lands 
give,  come  up  to  see  the  country,  and  to  wait  their  ship's  return 
to  Singapore.  The  trees  are  full  of  singing  birds  of  rich  and 
varied  note  ;  about  the  dwellings  are  flocks  of  hens  and  ducks,  — 


152  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  crowing  roosters  waking  us  with  the  day ;  the  tree-toad  and 
the  bat  get  in  their  time  right  well ;  the  Malay  folk,  in  gayly 
printed  stuff  and  shoeless  feet,  move  noiselessly  about,  and 
when  they  come  or  when  they  go  is  all  a  mystery.  These  people 
do  all  the  household  work,  cook  the  food  and  serve  it,  do  up 
the  chamber-work,  drive  you  out,  see  to  your  every  want,  and 
feed  themselves,  for  thirty  dollars  a  year.  Service  is  the  cheap- 
est thing  in  the  East.  Hotels  and  railroad  fares  are  higher  than 
in  the  States,  and  steamer  rates  enormous.  The  fare  from  Singa- 
pore to  Batavia,  say  sixty  hours,  —  we  came  in  fifty,  —  is  $45, 
or  a  round-trip  ticket  for  $67.50.  An  eight  hours'  ride  by  rail 
this  week  cost  about  a  dollar  an  hour.  The  railroad  eating:- 
houses  charge  two  rupees,  or  ninety  cents,  a  meal.  You  can  get 
a  pair  of  ponies,  with  carriage  and  driver,  for  six  rupees  a  day. 
The  same  outfit  charges  you  six  rupees  to  take  you  from  the 
wharf  to  the  hotel ;  but  you  may  keep  it  and  use  it  till  six 
o'clock,  and  pay  no  more.  So  when  you  come  this  way  you 
will  save  money  by  arriving  in  the  morning. 

We  came  back  as  far  as  Buitzenzorg,  an  inland  town  six 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  From  the  broad  porch  of  our 
domicile  is  such  a  sweeping  view  of  tropic  garden  forest,  of 
river,  bridge,  and  native  hut  and  mountain  land,  as  might  make 
one  clap  his  hands  and  shout  aloud  for  joy.  We  had  found 
the  right  place  for  easy,  listless,  satisfying  idleness.  Next  door 
to  ours  lived  a  Yankee,  —  a  native  of  New  York,  a  three  years' 
hermit  on  these  tropic  shores.  He  and  two  others  are  all  the 
Americans  now  upon  the  island.  So  we  sat  and  talked,  chatted 
and  read,  and  sipped  the  usual  drinks,  and  felt  at  home.  People 
who  have  not  wandered  far  away  beyond  the  limit  of  their  kith 
and  tongue  can  poorly  appreciate  the  hunger  a  traveller  feels  for 
some  one  to  talk  to  of  home  and  home  affairs. 

Java  is  well  worth  seeing,  and  the  proper  regi-et  is  that  we 
can't  stay  here  four  weeks  instead  of  one.  It  is  a  rare  land,  — 
a  land  without  seasons  ;  there  is  no  summ.er,  for  there  is  no  win- 
ter ;  no  autumn,  for  spring  never  comes.  Nights  and  days  are 
of  the  same  length  and  the  same  warmth  all  the  bright  year 
round.  There  is  no  seed-time  and  no  harvest,  but  continual 
planting  and  gathering.  There  are  no  mornings,  no  evenings, 
no  hearthstone,  no  family  fireside.  There  is  safety  in  indolence, 
death  in  exertion.     Nature  distributes  tropical  favors  with  lavish 


THE  ISLE  OF  JAVA.  1 53 

abundance.  The  land  reeks  with  fatness,  and  the  whole  country 
teems  with  children.  We  live  on  the  finest  of  tropical  fruits,  on 
bread,  meat,  and  vegetables.  The  hotels  are  good,  the  service 
abundant.  You  can  revel  in  tropical  scenery,  and  wonder  at 
the  ways  of  the  w^orld  ;  but  you  must  dress  coolly  and  keep  quiet. 
A  few  minutes  of  active  exercise  opens  a  thousand  pores  you 
feel  sure  you  never  had  before,  and  you  fairly  rain  with  perspi- 
ration. Even  writing  is  too  much  exertion  ;  so  I  will  stop  until 
beyond  this  Javan  climate  a  thousand  miles  at  least. 


154  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

CEYLON'S   ISLE. 

Across  the  Indian  Ocean  to  Ceylon.  —  A  Public  Garden  in  the  Tropics.  — 
Among  the  Floral  Wonders.  —  The  Temple  of  the  Sacred  Tooth  of 
Buddha.  —  Venerable  Shrines  and  Relics.  —  Questions  of  Faith.— 
Sights  and  Scenes  in  Columbo. —Jewels  and  Jewel  Merchants. — 
Churches  in  Ceylon. 

CHRISTMAS  came  and  went  without  a  sign  as  we  steamed 
from  Singapore  across  the  Indian  Ocean  to  Ceylon.    This 
inland  Kandy  town,  to  which  we  came  by  rail  from  Columbo, 
is  quite  a  gem,  —  delightful  roads  and  shades,  charming  walks 
and  drives,  picturesque  lakes  and  waterfalls,  and  such  a  public 
garden,  —  the  famous  Peradeniya  !    Would  you  like  to  look  into 
it?     An  easy  four-wheeled  carriage,  driven  by  a  tawny,  red-tur- 
baned,  barefooted  native,  bowls  you  over  four  miles  of  perfect 
road,    bordered    by   native    huts   beneath    the    overshadowing 
palms  and  tamarinds,  right  up  to  the  garden  gate,  where  you 
write   your   names,  obtain   a   guide,  and  ride  or  stroll  about 
among  the  garden  glories.      The  day  is    perfect,  temperature 
seventy-eight.     Your  guides  are  rather  chatty.     This  matter  of 
guides  is  curious.     Over  in  Java  you  cannot  get  one.     It  has 
never  entered  the  native  Javan  nor  yet  the  thick  Dutch  skull, 
that  any  living  mortal  needs  to  know  any  language  but  Dutch 
or  Malay ;  so  they  have  no  local  guides,  and  travellers  ignorant 
of  these  tongues  must  bring  guides  with   them,  or  go  about 
unaided,  as  we  did,  losing  more  than    half  the  value  of  the 
trip.     But  it  is  different  here  in  Ceylon.     If  you  go  out  to  walk 
or  ride,  a  guide  or  guides  appear  as   from   the  ground,  and, 
unbidden  and  often  unwanted,  attach  themselves  to  you  like 
parasites.     It  is  useless  to  tell  them  they  are  not  needed  ;  they 
know  better.    So  they  keep  along,  politely  chatting,  pointing  out 
objects  of  interest,  making  themselves  of  real  use  —  a  sort  of  long- 
felt  want  —  in  spite  of  you.     Starting  for  the  garden,  a  brightly 
calicoed  native  sprang  into  the  cart,  and  faithfully,  as  if  on  a 


CEYLON'S  ISLE.  I  55 

larf^e  salary,  began  to  spin  his  yarn.  The  first  impulse  was  to 
put  him  out ;  but  calmer  thoughts  prevailed.  His  face  was  a 
fine  piece  of  bronze  work ;  his  teeth  pearly  white,  his  eyes  deep 
and  languid;  and  as  he  chatted  about  the  natives  flocking 
past,  pointing  out  the  Buddhist  and  the  Mohammedan,  showing 
the  coffee  patches  beneath  the  broad-leaved  cocoa  shade,  the 
tea-shrubs  and  the  quinine-trees,  it  soon  became  apparent  that 
he  was  no  intruder.  Never  drive  a  native  back  when  he  shows 
good  talking  powers ;  for  though  he  may  talk  too  much,  yet 
there  are  good  kernels  enough  in  his  chaff  to  vastly  overpay  his 
modest  charge. 

So  with  this  carriage  guide,  and  another  from  the  garden, 
we  were  well  provided.  The  garden  has  two  hundred  acres, 
planted  with  trees  and  shrubs,  vines  and  flowers,  towering 
forest  giants  and  the  tiniest  flowering  bush.  It  is  a  garden  of 
fine  roads  and  drives,  lakes  and  wondrous  palms  and  bamboo 
groups,  snakes  and  fearful  poisons.  But  was  not  Eden  quite 
the  same?  Looking  about  for  curiosities,  we  found,  right  at 
hand,  a  towering  Honduras  mahogany-tree,  —  the  best  of 
woods,  —  a  long  way  from  home,  but  doing  finely.  Farther  on 
we  saw  some  cocoa-trees  with  tawny  pods,  cassia,  allspice,  and 
black  pepper  vines ;  and  such  glorious  clumps  of  bamboo, 
each  stalk  a  hundred  feet  in  height  and  six  or  eight  inches 
in  diameter,  and  so  closely  crowded  together  as  to  make  your 
getting  in  or  seeing  in  alike  impossible,  —  seeming  a  vast,  com- 
pact sheaf.  Their  growth  almost  exceeds  belief,  —  shooting  up 
in  the  rainy  season  half  an  inch  an  hour.  The  rain  here  means 
something,  falling  two  hundred  days  in  the  year,  measuring 
eighty-six  inches.  No  wonder  the  giant  bamboo  grass  makes 
rapid  growth.  Within  this  compact  mass  the  deadly  cobra 
Hves,  whose  bite  is  death.  By  day  he  coils  himself  within, 
where  no  one  may  molest  him,  coming  forth  at  night. 

But  the  trees  :  here  is  the  deadly  upas  piihn  (poison  tree) 
famous  in  legend ;  in  reality  a  gray,  smooth-barked,  clean,  and 
slowly  tapering  tree,  with  meagre  branches,  harming  no  one 
if  you  do  not  touch  its  milky  juices.  Farther  on  is  an  old 
rheumatic  cinnamon-tree,  with  thick  and  odorous  bark.  And 
here  are  the  great  rubber-trees  of  Assam,  whose  uncovered 
roots  wander  weirdly  about  the  ground  like  contorted  serpents, 
reminding  one  of  that  phase  of  Dante's  hell  in  which  Dor«§ 


1S6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

depicts  the  toes  and  fingers  of  the  doomed  as  sprouting  forth 
in  wandering  roots  and  hmbs  of  trees,  with  their  tortured 
trunks.  You  stand  before  them  spell-bound ;  yet  these  horrid 
arboreal  giants  are  the  same  rubber-trees  that  you  pet  in  flower- 
pots, and  fondle  as  rare  botanic  curiosities. 

The  palms  are  myriad,  from  all  parts  of  the  palm-producing 
world,  ~  those  that  give  fruit,  food,  oil,  nuts,  milk,  water,  flowers. 
Some  yield  the  nasty  betel  that  the  natives  chew,  turning  red 
their  teeth  and  lips ;  others  yield  the  date  fruit  and  the  veg- 
etable ivory,  sago,  cabbage,  rattan,  and  panama  straw.  Here, 
too,  dying,  is  the  noted  Talipot  palm,  —  dying  because  it  has 
lived  its  fifty  years  and  bloomed.  It  blooms  but  once,  then 
dies.  Not  far  away  are  the  cassia  and  the  gamboge  trees  ;  the 
lordly  banyan  with  its  living  buttresses  ;  the  resin-tree,  giving 
demmar  varnish;  rattan-trees,  or  chmbing  palms,  that  climb 
the  highest  trees,  holding  by  their  sharp  grappling-hooks ;  the 
tallow-candle  tree,  nutmeg,  cacti,  tea,  coff'ee,  and  the  won- 
derful coca  shrub  that  gives  forth  an  alkaloid  famous  as  an 
anaesthetic. 

And  so  you  wander  about  among  sweet-scented  leafage,  gigan- 
tic fig-trees,  guavas,  tamarinds,  Indian  cedar,  varnish  trees,  in- 
cense wood,  the  stinking-fruited  durian,  and  the  tolu-bearing 
tree ;  camphor-trees,  and  the  papery-barked  oil-trees,  the  rich- 
fruited  rambutan.  You  linger  beneath  the  masses  of  richly 
flowered  Burmese  creepers,  the  curious  cochineal  and  lovely 
satinwood,  or  Himalayan  cypress,  and  the  curious  tanning  trees. 
It  is  a  wonderland  of  tree  and  vine ;  place  of  the  double 
cocoa-nut,  the  calabash,  crimson  and  orange  tinted  foliage,  the 
rain-tree,  the  tonga,  or  neuralgia-curing  tree,  climbing  ferns, 
the  death- dealing  mix  vomica,  the  rare  muruta,  with  its  mauve- 
pink  blossoms,  the  sacred  pepul,  and  trees  that  bear  the  choicest 
incense  gums.  There  is,  indeed,  no  end  of  arboreal  curiosities  ; 
and  having  loitered  lovingly  about  the  botanic  paradise,  and 
become  dazed  with  the  names  and  offices  of  the  noted  produc- 
tions, what  should  come  to  dispel  your  happy  day-dream  and 
curdle  your  warm  blood,  but  a  hideous,  poisonous  cobra  gliding 
across  your  path  !  Let  him  go.  Extremes  meet,  —  the  best 
and  worst ;  for  where  all  seems  so  never-dying,  death  lurks ; 
and  where  life  is  most  luxuriant,  one  must  needs  be  reminded 
of  its  absolute  uncertainty. 


CEYLON'S  ISLE.  1 57 

"  Do  these  snakes  sometimes  kill  your  people  ? "  I  asked 
Siron,  the  guide. 

"Yes,  master,  sometimes  do  ;  but  cannot  help.  The  God  he 
hold  the  key ;  he  can  lock  or  unlock ;  man  he  cannot  help  it."- 

You  are  right,  my  dusky,  barefoot  heathen.  Enjoy  life 
while  you  may ;  loiter  among  the  lovely-tinted  gardens  of  your 
sunny,  sensuous  life  ;  but  remember  well  that  ever  within  the 
loveliest  buds  of  life  lurks  the  deadening  poison.  "  The  God 
he  hold  the  key ;  "  no  man  can  help  or  heal. 

The  public  garden  is  the  great  feature  of  Ceylon.  The 
vast  fields  of  tea  are  interesting ;  but  one  tea-plant  is  much 
like  another.  The  coffee  plague  has  nearly  destroyed  that 
industry ;  and  on  those  once  rich  plantations,  where  men  lived 
among  their  male  and  female  peons  like  nabobs,  tossing  their 
wealth  by  handfuls,  now  sober  calculation  comes  to  follow 
upon  the  heels  of  bankruptcy.  Ceylon  is  no  longer  the  Cey- 
lon of  yore.  The  voracious  coffee-plant  has  sapped  the  land 
as  the  tobacco-plant  sapped  the  Virginia  soil ;  and  now  the 
tug  of  war  is  made  all  the  more  severe  by  the  luxurious  habits 
acquired  during  the  island's  days  of  opulence.     True,  — 

"  the  spicy  breezes 
Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle, 
And  every  prospect  pleases," 

save  that  of  rapidly  coining  wealth  in  Ceylon.     Trade  is  dull ; 
her  young  men  go  away. 

The  eminence  forming  the  background  to  this  lovely  loitering- 
place  is  lined  with  drives  and  shady  walks,  with  many  resting- 
points  and  comprehensive  outlooks  upon  the  town  and  temples, 
lake  and  villa  seats,  with  rich  plantations  stretching  far  beyond, 
even  to  the  mountain  peaks.  To  each  of  us  a  native  guide 
attached  himself,  and  pointed  out  the  interesting  places,  —  the 
tea  estates,  the  homes  of  this  or  that  celebrity,  the  curious  trees, 
and  the  spot  where  a  child  was  lately  killed  by  wildcats. 

"  Nonsense,  Dara,  there  are  no  wildcats  here." 

"There  is  no  end  of  them,"  he  said  ;  "these  woods  are  full 
of  cats  and  snakes,  and  we  must  be  back  before  dark." 

Dara  was  a  student  of  the  Industrial  School,  and  now  a 
teacher.  His  English  was  fluent.  He  talked  of  many  inter- 
esting things,  and   though  somewhat  anglicized,  deplored   the 


158  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

custom  of  men  and  women  whom  we  met  mixing  as  tliey 
did  in  drives  and  walks  and  churches,  counting  it  better  that 
only  men  should  appear  in  public.  Two  hundred  years  of 
European  customs,  teaching,  and  example  have  not  sufficed 
to  elevate  the  other  sex  in  India. 

Ending  the  pleasant  walk  at  the  portals  of  the  Temple  of 
the  Sacred  Tooth  of  Buddha,  and  hearing  the  inviting  music 
of  the  holy  drum,  we  passed  within  the  outer  gate.  The 
lower  steps  leading  to  the  holy  shrines  were  flanked  with  pools 
of  sparkling  water,  from  the  lovely  little  lake  that  gems  the 
town,  enclosed  with  the  same  Hindu  gothic  wall  that  quite  sur- 
rounds the  very  ancient  temple.  The  granite  steps  lead  to 
the  main  portal,  on  either  side  of  which,  in  rather  crude  and 
vigorous  art,  a  spacious  hell  is  pictured.  In  general  effect 
and  well-selected  horrors  the  hells  of  all  religions  vary  but 
little.  This  one  had  a  well-assorted  stock  of  black  and 
rampant  devils  skipping  about  among  much  lurid  flame,  mak- 
ing their  human  victims  inhumanly  uncomfortable.  This  was, 
so  the  guide  explained,  the  well-known  doom  of  thieves  and 
liars ;  those  who  oppressed  the  poor  and  denied-  the  faith ; 
those  who  do  impure  and  forbidden  tilings,  —  all  these  were 
counted  in,  and  they  appeared  to  be  having  a  very  tough 
time  of  it. 

Within  the  temple  were  clean  and  spacious  halls,  decorated 
with  carved  stone  and  curious  implements  of  worship.  Upon 
the  walls  and  by  the  portals  of  the  shrines  were  frescoed  saints 
and  gods,  —  the  managers  of  life  and  death,  of  all  the  earth 
and  heavens.  Through  several  brazen  doors  which  opened 
up  before  us  was  the  golden  shrine,  —  shrine  of  the  seven 
richly  wrought  golden  bells,  one  within  the  other,  the  in- 
most one  containing  one  of  Buddha's  teeth,  —  a  real  tooth, 
picked  from  the  ashes  of  his  crematory  pyre  at  Kusinara, 
B.  c.  543,  so  said  the  guide,  for  he  had  seen  it,  as  also 
the  \-ery  cup  from  which  our  father  Adam  drank.  Once  a 
year  it  is  shown  to  the  faithful  few.  In  another  costl)'  shrine 
is  seen  a  Buddha  footprint,  made  three  thousand  years  ago, 
when  he  came  to  Kandy.  Rubbish,  do  we  say?  And  yet, 
do  not  we,  as  Christian  folk,  believe  in  saintly  relics,  and  keep 
them  safe  in  costly  golden  shrines,  and  show  them  to  the 
faithful    now   and   then?      If    we    may   revere    the   skulls   of 


CEYLON'S  ISLE.  1 59 

saints,  and  vial  up  the  bloody  sweat  of  Christ,  and  Mary's 
milk,  why  call  this  Buddha  tooth  and  footprint  rubbish?  He 
had  teeth  and  footprints  too,  no  doubt,  and  \i  his  myriad  fol- 
lowers find  comfort  in  owning  some,  as  we  do  shin-bones  of 
our  saints,  why,  let  them  have  it. 

Another  shrine  encloses  a  fine  crystal  Buddha,  which  the 
venerable  and  hatted  high-priest  showed  with  evident  satis- 
faction, then  held  out  his  plate  for  a  fee.  Then  we  went 
to  the  library,  —  a  rather  good  collection  of  old  and  modern 
books ;  then  to  the  great  stone  Buddha,  seated  on  his  lotus 
throne,  like  one  in  deepest  thought.  At  all  the  shrines  were 
silver  tables,  covered  deep  with  lovely,  odorous  flowers,  the 
pious  offerings  of  the  worshippers.  As  we  stopped  to  take  a 
closer  look  at  the  graven  silver  casings  of  the  bell  shrine  door, 
two  nuns  advanced,  each  bearing  silver  plates  laden  with  fresh 
and  aromatic  flowers  to  place  upon  the  altar.  Seeing  that 
they  —  the  flowers  —  were  admired,  one  white-robed,  barefoot 
sister  picked  from  her  plate  a  fragrant  little  lily,  and  placed  it 
in  my  hand.  Thanking  her  as  I  turned  to  go,  she  gently  mur- 
mured, "  Please  make  me  a  gift,  my  master."  At  every  door 
and  shrine,  at  every  interesting  point,  a  little  collection  is  taken 
up  to  keep  the  church  in  order,  and  help  pay  the  current 
expenses.  Some  make  unkind  remarks  about  it,  and  call  it 
beggary ;  but  why  should  one  not  pay  for  pagan  entertainment 
as  well  as  for  any  other?  This  richly  carved  old  temple 
has  stood  here  fifteen  hundred  years,  and,  though  much  re- 
paired, shows  good  original  work.  Ceylon  (the  word  is  from 
sela,  "  precious  stone  ")  was  a  favored  spot  of  Buddha,  and 
contains  no  end  of  grand  old  temple  ruins,  —  carven  stone, 
long  since  overgrown  with  forest  jungles,  relics  of  the  dim 
religious  past. 

Ceylon  is  only  forty  miles  from  heaven.  This  is  the 
Buddhistic  belief.  Right  over  there,  in  plain  sight,  is  Adam's 
peak,  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  It  is  a  most  holy 
place ;  for  there  upon  the  solid  stone  are  prints  of  Buddha's 
feet,  enclosed  with  bronze,  beset  with  gems.  The  Buddhist 
pilgrims  come  here  in  crowds  to  worship,  as  Japs  go  to  Fuji- 
yama, or  Christians  unto  Sinai.  They  call  the  mountain  Seipada, 
"  footprint  of  fortune.  "  The  Moslem  says  that  it  is  Adam's 
mount,  because  when  Adam  fell  from    Paradise  his    fall   was 


l6o  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

broken  by  landing  on  this  glorious  spot ;  and  that  though 
from  this  mount  he  first  lamented  his  sad  fate,  the  change 
from  the  garden*  to  earth  was  really  not  so  great  as  it  might 
have  been,  —  such  the  result  of  God's  mercy  to  the  erring 
one. 

We  like  Columbo.  The  Indian  name  is  Kalambu  ;  but  the 
Portuguese  changed  it  to  its  present  form  in  honor  of  the  great 
navigator.  The  sun  rises  here  at  six  and  sets  at  six  —  a  trifle 
more  or  less  —  the  whole  year  round.  When  it  comes  in  sight, 
night  vanishes;  as  it  sinks  beyond  the  ocean  wave,  night-time 
is  here.  Coming  from  east  or  west,  coming  ashore  in  native 
boats,  one  is  glad  to  find  here  a  good  hotel,  —  a  vast  stone 
structure  near  the  landing-place,  with  broad  and  cool  verandas 
and  spacious  lounging-chairs,  clean,  cool  rooms  with  well 
waxed  floors,  lofty  and  bright,  with  perfect  ventilation.  Hot 
nights  these  are ;  but  what  with  the  partition  walls  stopping 
short  of  reaching  the  ceiling,  the  broad  punka  fans  of  the 
spacious  dining-hall,  cool  floors,  and  open  doors  and  windows, 
one  who  keeps  quiet  may  be  perfectly  comfortable ;  and  as 
you  take  your  cosey  early  breakfast,  in  or  out  of  bed,  some 
curious  crow  lights  upon  your  window-sill,  hops  down  upon 
the  floor,  and  asks  you  for  a  friendly  crumb  or  two  to  pay  him 
for  his  early  morning  song.  They  call  them  rooks  here  ;  but  in 
color,  language,  and  dishonesty  they  are  veritable  crows.  ^Vhen 
you  are  out  they  come  into  your  room  and  steal  small  articles, 
tear  up  your  photographs,  taste  your  ink,  and  do  other 
disreputable  acts. 

Columbo  is  the  principal  port  of  Ceylon,  the  stopping-place 
of  all  the  ships  that  pass  the  Suez  Canal  and  go  beyond  Bom- 
bay, and  all  that  go  from  China,  Australia,  and  Calcutta  to  the 
west.  Hundreds  of  people  come  and  go  almost  every  day ; 
great  stocks  of  coals  are  kept,  and  here  is  a  harbor  made  by 
artificial  walls.  The  streets  are  fine.  You  ride  about  in  four- 
seated  carriages,  drawn  by  a  single  horse  ;  while  all  goods  are 
handled  in  bamboo-covered  carts,  drawn  by  straight- horned 
native  cattle.  There  is  yet  another  passenger  conveyance  that 
strikes  one  as  rather  queer,  —  a  two-wheeled  covered  cart,  to 
whicli  nimble-footed  steers  or  heifers  are  hitched,  and  these 
are    brought    to    trot    almost  as   fast    as    horses ;    that    is    to 


CEYLON'S  ISLE.  l6l 

say,  a  brisk  bull-cart  will  pass  your  slow- trotting  hack  horse 
with  ease,  the  driver  sitting  close  behind  and  keeping  his 
animal  well  in  hand  with  rope  lines,  which  lead  not  to  a  bit, 
but  to  a  ring  through  the  nostril  cartilage.  When  yoked  in 
pairs,  a  straight  bamboo  pole  is  tied  to  the  tongue  and  upon 
the  neck.  The  cattle  are  not  large  or  well  bred;  yet  they 
do  good  work,  —  as  good  as  any  cattle  could  in  such  a  raging 
climate.  In  these  light  and  almost  comfortless  bull-carts,  long 
journeys  are  taken  through  the  country,  — journeys  of  hundreds 
of  miles,  —  travelling  by  night  to  avoid  the  great  heat,  and  resting 
by  day  in  some  shady  retreat. 

Though  quite  a  large  place  —  this  Columbo,  —  this  meeting- 
place  of  the  nations  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  —  there 
is  not  much  here  to  attract  the  travelled  visitor.  The  Euro- 
peans' houses  are  encased  in  breezy  arcades ;  the  native  huts 
are  low  beneath  their  tile  or  thatch  ;  the  native  people  are 
dressed,  half-dressed,  and  in  a  state  of  nature ;  and  above  all 
and  around  all  picturesque  and  thickly  fruited  palm-trees  stand 
friendly  guard  and  cast  a  generous  shade.  The  best  drive 
takes  you  along  between  the  bright  green  lawns  and  the  long 
sea-wall,  in  front  of  which  the  white-maned  waves  roll  and 
break  in  perfect  rhythm,  again  and  again  repeating  the  never- 
ending  story  of  the  sleepless  sea.  It  is  a  delightful  beach  of 
smooth  and  solid  sand;  but  enter  not,  for  within  those 
lovely  waters,  that  roll  and  toss  and  tell  such  luring  stories  of 
far-off  isles  and  sea,  lurks  the  keen-toothed  shark,  waiting 
to  take  his  long-expected  meal.  These  sharks  are  great  con- 
noisseurs in  meats ;  they  will  not  decline  flesh  of  any  sort^ 
but  much  prefer  the  human ;  and  even  in  this  they  have  a 
preference,  choosing  the  European.  When  there  is  a  chance 
for  choice,  your  well-bred  shark  will  skip  a  black  man  for  a 
copper-colored  Indian  ;  and  if  a  white  man  floats  within  his 
reach,  he  '11  skip  both  black  and  yellow  to  get  the  best.  We 
concluded  not  to  indulge  in  surf-bathing,  but  to  enj'oy  an  hour 
in  the  rather  interesting  museum,  and  a  drive  in  the  cinnamon 
garden  and  on  the  borders  of  the  lovely  lake. 

Here  at  Columbo  lives  Arabi  Pasha,  who  made  so  bold  a 
dash  to  free  his  native  land  from  Turkish  rule  a  year  or  two 
ago.  Instead  of  losing  his  head  as  a  common  rebel,  he  was 
pensioned  off  at  Columbo,  —  an  exile  here  within  his  pleasant 

II 


1 62  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  spacious  villa,  with  a  retinue  of  servants  and  well-selected 
harem.  He  receives  no  visits  in  a  general  way;  but  at  this 
safe  distance  from  his  native  land,  which  he  had  hoped  to 
win  and  free,  he  meditates  upon  the  ways  of  fate,  hoping, 
no  doubt,  in  spite  of  strictest  guard,  he  may  some  day 
appear  once  more  upon  Egyptian  sands  to  battle  for  his 
country,  ^^'e  call  such  fellows  traitors,  he  and  El  Mahdi ; 
but  is  there  not  a  nobler,  better,  truer  name  for  such  daring 
men  who  boldly  offer  up  their  lives  for  their  people,  kin,  and 
homes  ? 

The  native  shops  are  interesting;  the  men  who  deal  in 
precious  stones  and  rings  and  Indian  silver  things  most  per- 
sistent in  their  attentions.  No  sooner  have  you  come  to  a  halt 
in  your  hotel  than  these  suave,  keen-eyed  Indian  sharps 
produce  their  glittering  goods,  —  their  rubies,  cat's-eyes,  sap- 
phires, amethysts,  and  many  other  sorts,  loose,  or  set  in 
golden  rings,  to  tempt  a  trade ;  and  woe  be  to  the  man  who 
makes  an  unguarded  offer  !  Before  your  admiring  gaze  flashes 
a  triple  set  of  beauteous  rings,  —  a  flaming  row  of  sapphires, 
rubies,  and  pearls. 

''  How  much?  "  you  ask. 

"  Fifty  rupees,"  is  the  quick  answer. 

"Fifty  for  all?" 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir,  these  are  real  stones  in  real  gold, — 
fifty  for  each,  sir.  " 

You  look  at  them.  They  are  really  pretty ;  not  so  finely 
set,  but  well  and  strongly.  Fifty  rupees.  Four  times  five  are 
tvvent)-.  Twenty  dollars  a  ring.  Surely  the  price  is  not  so 
very  dear.  You  think  to  get  them  cheap,  and  are  inclined 
to  offer  half  his  price.  But  don't  you  do  it ;  offer  something 
very  much  below,  —  say  fifty  rupees  for  the  lot,  —  not  the 
price  of  unset  stones.  Or  go  lower  yet.  Six  times  five 
are  thirty. 

"  I  '11  give  you  thirty  rupees  for  the  lot.  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  master.  How  can  you  give  me 
thirty  rupees  —  thirty  rupees!  —  for  the  lot?  The  gold  cost 
more  ;  the  stones  cost  more  than  that." 

"  Very  well,  take  your  rings  and  go  !  "  But  he  does  n't. 
He  lingers  —  begins  the  battle  anew. 

"  Do  you  know  Mr.  Tiffany?" 


CEYLON'S  ISLE.  1 63 

"What  then?" 

"  I  sell  him  many  rings  ;  fine  stones  like  these." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"What  you  going  to  give  me  for  these  rings?  You  speak 
some  fair  price,  my  master." 

"Thirty  rupees." 

"  You  know  Mr.  Jordan?  " 

"What  then?" 

"  What  you  going  to  give  me  for  these  rings  ?  You  make 
offer. " 

"  Twenty-five  rupees  !  " 

"  O  my  master,  how  can  you  say  twenty-five  rupees  when  you 
just  say  thirty  and  I  not  take  him  !  How  can  you  say  twenty- 
five  rupees  1     What  you  say  now?  " 

"  Twenty-five. " 

The  rings  are  yet  upon  your  little  finger.  Very  pretty  stones 
they  are,  —  fifteen  stones  in  rather  clumsy  setting ;  and  the  talk 
goes  on,  the  lively,  silk-robed  dealer  every  moment  more 
alert  and  earnest.  Others  see  a  chance  for  a  possible  trade ; 
and  before  your  eyes  are  flashing  fifty  gems,  set  and  unset. 
Questions  and  answers  fly  like  rain-drops.  You  admire  others 
most ;  go  to  pull  off  the  three  much-favored  ones  to  hand 
them  back,  when  he  whispers  in  your  ear :  — 

"  Keep  them,  master  —  keep  them  at  thirty ;  but  talk  me 
fifty  before  these  fellows,  because  I  lose  too  much.  Give  me 
your  card,  master,  for  my  profit." 

Hour  after  hour  these  mild-eyed  Indian  merchants  talk  and 
trade.  Stones  are  very  cheap  at  Columbo.  The  soil  of  Cey- 
lon abounds  in  them  ;  the  natives  cut  them  for  next  to  nothing ; 
and  though  many  deceptions  are  practised,  yet  if  you  buy  with 
ordinary  care  you  need  not  pay  too  much.  Ceylon  is  the 
supposable  Ophir  of  Jewish  history,  and  the  rich  supply  of 
precious  things  is  not  exhausted  yet. 

There  are  churches  and  churches  in  Columbo ;  but  here, 
as  elsewhere,  the  Catholic  takes  the  lead  in  vim  and  push 
and  progress.  He  was  here  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and 
stays  here  yet.  The  English  church  here  is  very  old  too,  and 
full  of  interest.  The  edifice  is  old  and  grim,  with  mellow- 
tinted  walls,  with  nave  and  aisles,  altar  and  choir,  pulpit  and 
lectern,    candles    too,   withal,   and    service    carefully    intoned. 


164  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Gliding  along  the  smoothly  worn  stone  floor  you  drop  into  a 
seat  and  wait  for  the  service.  The  chimes  are  done  ;  a  copper- 
colored  lad  goes  to  the  organ.  The  people  drop  in  quietly, 
but  sparsely;  the  great  bell  taps,  and  from  the  waiting-rooms 
come  parson  and  choir  to  open  up  the  solemn  service  beneath 
the  slowly  swinging  punka  fans  that  cool  the  worshippers 
and  those  who  read  the  rites.  The  proceedings  are  those  of 
all  the  meetings  past ;  the  sermon  the  oft-repeated,  wonderful 
story  that  no  mistake  was  made  as  to  the  time  of  the  Saviour's 
coming.  But  the  choir  —  the  dozen  black-haired,  white-teethed, 
white-robed,  handsome  half-caste  Indian  boys  —  gave  us  vocal 
music  that  must  have  stirred  all  hearts,  —  fluent,  plaintive,  plead- 
ing as  only  children's  voices  can  plead  ;  rich  in  quality,  round 
and  full  in  volume.  Such  charming  choral  service  as  these 
bright  Eurasian  singers  gave  one  may  not  hear  in  a  lifetime. 
It  was  worth  all,  and  more  than  all,  the  rest ;  and  the  golden 
symphony  of  these  boyish  voices  rings  in  the  ears  and  vibrates 
among  the  heart-strings  long  after  the  reading  and  the  preaching 
are  forgotten. 


INDIA.  165 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

INDIA. 

Madras  and  the  Bay  of  Bengal.  —  Indian  Water-Craft.  —  A  Look  about 
Madras.  —  Calcutta.  —  Its  Gardens  and  Banyan-Trees.  —  The  Burn- 
ing Ghats  of  India. —  A  Native  Funeral.  —  Climbing  the  Himalayas. 
— Among  the  Lofty  Peaics.  —  Benares,  Birthplace  of  Buddha  —  Scenes 
on  the  Ganges.  —  Cawnpore  and  Lucknow.  —  Cities  of  Dreadful 
Memories. 

INDIA  !  land  of  nabobs  and  the  Ganges  ;  home  of  ancient 
religions  and  story ;  treasury  of  knowledge  and  wealth ; 
centre  of  far-spreading  thought  and  world-wide  superstition ; 
battlefield  of  the  world's  armies  and  of  the  world's  creeds  ; 
land  of  never-failing  fatness ;  den  of  the  plagues  and  the 
fiercest  men  and  beasts.  Not  elsewhere  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  have  there  been  such  contrasts  of  weal  and  woe,  —  wealth 
so  uncountable,  display  so  rich  and  so  bewildering,  corruption 
so  universal  and  deep-seated.  India  is  an  enigma  in  its  faiths, 
its  castes,  its  customs  ;  its  inexhaustible  resources  in  food  and  in 
things  most  precious  ;  its  exalted  power,  its  deepest  degradation. 
Its  people  never  wander  from  their  home  to  seek  out  other 
homes  and  lands.     It  is  the  object  of  the  world's  cupidity. 

Coming  to  India  by  way  of  Ceylon,  —  most  charming  sea- 
girt outer  gate,  —  the  broad  mainland  was  first  approached  at 
Madras,  on  the  western  shore  of  the  bay  of  Bengal.  Madras 
(the  name  is  Madrasa,  Arabic  for  "  a  university ")  is  an 
ancient  Indian  town  without  a  harbor,  on  a  shore  where  rest- 
less ocean  waves  come  rolling  in,  defiant  of  the  artificial  scheme 
they  call  a  harbor.  Casting  anchor  a  hundred  rods  from 
shore,  the  native  boats  — full  six  feet  deep,  and  sewed  together 
with  twine  to  give  them  flexibility  to  withstand  the  angry  waves 
—  came  off  to  take  the  freight  and  passengers.  These  tossing, 
dancing  shells,  each  managed  by  ten  or  twelve  almost  naked 
natives,  sitting  on  poles  laid  crosswise,  seem  a  most  dangerous 
craft  as  they  come  alongside  at  the  bottom  of  the  steamer's 


1 66  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Stair.     They  pitch  and  toss  and  jam  about ;  the  oarsmen  shout 
and  yell,  plying  their  spoon-shaped  paddles ;  and  as  you  step 
aboard,  down  goes  the  boat  full  six  feet  from  your  feet,  —  down 
into  the  troughy  sea  as  if  it  would  go  under ;  up  again  it  bounds  ; 
and  as  it  falls  and  leaps,  with  most  perplexing  lurch  and  toss, 
you  watch  your  chance  and  make  a  plunge  into  the  little  pas- 
senger pen  at  the  bow,  and  gain  your  seat  by  the  aid  of  two 
half-naked  coolies.     By  their  united  force  they  bring  you  to  the 
landing  pier,  and  with  another  pitch  and  lurch  and  toss  and 
struggle  you  get  your  feet  on  solid  ground.     It  is  not  so  danger- 
ous as  it  looks,  for  all  its  noise  and  bother.     Here  are  first  seen 
those  curious  catamarans,  —  boats  made  of  little  palm-stem  logs, 
slightly  upcurved  at  the  bow.     Two  of  these  —  sometimes  with 
one  or  two  smaller  logs  between  —  corded  together  complete 
the  boat.     Out  over  the  angry  surf,  riding  the  waves  like  chips, 
come  these  small  craft  manned  by  naked  natives,  who  squat  or 
stand,  and  paddle  themselves  about  in  seeming  perfect  safety. 
They  come  out  to  these  ships  when  no  other  sort  of  craft  could 
live  a  moment,  gliding  over  the  billowy  waters,  now  upon  the 
top,  now  deep  in  the  trough  ;    always  on  the   surface,  always 
drenched.     You  watch  them,  hoping  for  an  upset  to  see  what 
the  crew  will  do.    But  it  would  be  as  easy  to  upset  a  fish.    Once 
in  a  great  while  a  single  lascar  is  pitched  into  the  brine  ;  but  like 
a  lively  fish  he  darts  towards  his  tossing  craft,  and  in  a  jiffy 
stands  on  top  again.      So  easy  does  it  seem  that  one    feels 
tempted  to  try  this  primitive  way  of  boating,  and  go  ashore  on 
a  catamaran  ;  but  it  is  like  too  many  other  things  you  see  — 
not  half  so  easy  as  you  think.     These  lithe  and  wiry  slim-legged 
little  men  who  do  this  sort  of  thing  are  half  amphibious,  —  they 
live  upon  these  never-sleeping  waves ;  rest  upon  them  like  the 
flocks  of  ocean  birds  that  fly  or  float  about  your  boat ;  and,  like 
them,  are  thoughtless  of  fear  or  danger.     While  these  go  here 
and  there,  and  the  deep  surf  boats  leap  and  lurch  and  pound 
about,  the  angry  sea  so  moves  our  great  iron  craft  about  as  to 
make  her  part  from  her  anchor.     Off  she  puts  to  sea  again  to 
keep  from  fouling  other  ships,  and  stays  outside  the  puny  break- 
water until  another  anchor  has  been  lifted  from  the  hold  and 
rigged  for  service,  when  she  goes  back  to   her  place  to  take 
another  tussle.     This  time  the  anchor  holds  its  grip,  and  we 
ride  and  sleep  in  safety. 


IXDIA.  167 

Ashore  in  Madras.  It  is  a  large  and  thrifty  towTi,  full  of  fine 
large  buildings,  native  huts,  and  broad  and  dusty  streets,  —  streets 
gravelled  with  pounded  brick  for  want  of  stone,  which  here  is  very 
scarce.  Father  Meyer,  vicar  general  of  Madras,  had  come  aboard 
to  meet  and  conduct  us  to  the  bishop's  palace.  Here  stood  a 
grand  old  cathedral  church  of  aged  brick  and  stucco,  built  away 
back  in  1640,  when  America  was  almost  unknown  and  very  little 
settled.  All  these  two  hundred  and  forty-five  years  had  Chris- 
tians worked  and  worshipped  here  ;  and  here,  close  by,  the  sister 
nuns  had  lived  and  worked  to  teach  and  guide  these  native  folk, 
—  to  bring  them  to  a  better  life  and  light  and  love  of  truth. 
A  visit  to  these  earthly  saints  was  full  of  real  comfort.  By  per- 
mission of  the  Mother  Superior,  they  took  a  recess  and  came 
to  us  in  the  cool  reception  room,  —  these  white-robed,  bright- 
eyed  Irish  girls,  w'ho  had  come  out  from  County  Clare  and 
Limerick,  forever  leaving  land  and  home  to  toil  in  this  hot, 
unhealthy  climate  among  the  homeless  outcast  class  that  comes 
unbidden,  certainly  unwelcomed,  to  this  troubled  Avorld.  In  a 
gladsome,  chatty  way  they  talked  with  us,  speaking  of  homes 
now  far  away,  showing  us  their  airy  school-rooms  and  their  cosey 
chapel,  pointing  out  their  pictures  and  their  pretty  altars,  ask- 
ing a  thousand  questions,  chatting,  laughing,  giving  us  songs  and 
music,  —  not  once  speaking  of  their  trials  or  their  days  of  toil 
or  loneliness  in  this  burning  land  so  far  away  from  home.  The 
no-caste  foundlings  are  their  constant  care.  These  they  train 
up  to  educated  womanhood,  saved  from  a  fearful  doom. 

"  And  what  becomes  of  these  when  you  are  done  with  them  ?  " 
we  asked. 

"  Oh,  thev  find  husbands  and  homes,  mostlv  amonir  the 
soldiers,"  was  the  answer. 

The  bishop  was  absent  on  a  visitation  in  the  country.  He 
travels,  as  must  be  here,  by  bullock-cart,  over  many  hundred 
miles  of  country  paths,  visiting  his  people,  strengthening  the 
weak  places,  founding  new  missions,  travelling  by  night  and 
resting  in  some  shady  spot  during  the  heated  day-time  when 
travel  is  most  uncomfortable. 

Taking  some  refreshments  and  saying  good-by,  we  left  the 
sturdy  vicar  and  the  noble  nuns  to  their  life-long  toil,  and  rode 
away  in  covered  carts  to  see  the  great,  wide,  straggling  city.  The 
gardens  are  rather  pretty,  —  the  botanical,  full  of  noble  palm, 


1 68  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

banyan,  and  many  curious  trees  and  shrubs  and  plants ;  the 
zoological,  with  its  wild  animals  and  snakes  and  birds ;  the 
museum,  with  its  unique  collections  of  ancient  stone  and  wood 
carvings,  implements  of  war  and  peace,  its  gems  and  idols, 
curious  books  and  manufactures.  Here  to  Madras  the  British 
forces  had  just  brought  the  ferocious  Theobaw,  the  murderous 
Burmah  king,  a  prisoner.  He  and  his  large  harem  were  domi- 
ciled in  a  spacious  bungalow  palace  in  one  of  the  city  squares, 
under  strong  military  guard.  Like  the  old  king  of  Oudh, 
another  princely  captive  in  Calcutta,  he  will  have  his  palace 
pleasures  and  his  prison  life,  but  sit  no  more  upon  his  throne. 
These  eastern  monarchs,  once  beneath  the  British  lion's  paw, 
have  freedom  nevermore.  Like  caged  tigers  they  beat  against 
the  bars,  but  only  harm  themselves. 

Our  steamer  —  "Brindisi"  —  reached  Calcutta  on  the  8th. 
It  is  a  place  of  some  six  hundred  thousand  people,  and  contains 
as  little  that  is  interesting  to  the  traveller  as  could  well  be  im- 
agined. It  is  a  city  of  vast  open  spaces,  poor  hotels,  and 
swarming  native  life ;  and  about  the  best  thing  the  traveller 
can  do,  after  seeing  the  botanical  garden,  with  its  great  banyan- 
tree  and  avenues  of  palm,  the  bathing  and  the  burning  ghats, 
is  to  get  away  as  soon  as  possible. 

Speaking  of  the  banyan- tree,  you  have  all  seen  it,  and,  as 
children,  stared  and  wondered  at  it ;  for  it  is  the  same  that 
has  been  pictured  in  all  the  geographies  that  have  been  printed 
in  the  last  hundred  years.  I  distinctly  remember  having  seen 
it  almost  fifty  years  ago,  and  it  was  an  old  picture  then.  But  it 
has  kept  on  growing  ever  since.  Yet  when  the  carriage  stopped 
before"  its  shade,  it  was  recognized  in  a  moment  as  a  familiar 
friend  of  our  early  school-day  youth.  But  such  a  monster,  with 
so  many  hundred  trunks  !  Of  course  we  sized  it  up.  From 
the  main  trunk,  which  very  likely  antedates  the  deluge,  springs 
forth  a  sturdy  horizontal  limb,  one  of  many.  Just  pace  it : 
full  fifty  strides,  —  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet !  Supported  all 
along  with  other  lesser  trunks  that  have  taken  root,  and  keep 
it  safely  from  the  ground,  what  is  there  to  hinder  such  an  enter- 
prising limb  from  encircling  the  globe  ?  Nothing  but  water.  It 
will  grow  and  grow,  add  trunk  to  trunk,  and  become  an  arboreal 
procession  miles  and  miles,  if  so  permitted.     Pace  the  whole 


INDIA.  169 

tree  round  about  the  tips  of  its  outer  foliage  :  almost  nine 
hundred  feet.  At  its  greatest,  the  diameter  of  its  shade  is 
quite  three  hundred  feet.  Count  its  many  trunks  :  the  big 
and  little  are  one  hundred  and  seventy-five,  and  more  are 
coming.  The  girth  of  the  main  trunk  is  fifty-one  feet.  This 
noble  Indian  tree  stands  in  a  broad  green  park.  Beneath  its 
thick,  cool  shade  there  is  no  grass,  but  many  seats,  where  people 
come  and  sit  to  rest  and  knit  and  wonder.  The  banyan  is  of 
the  fig-tree  species,  but  its  fruit  is  small  and  worthless,  its  sap 
a  sort  of  sticky,  creamy  stuff.  Picking  a  leaf,  we  drove  away 
through  long  avenues  of  fine  Palmyra  palms,  past  lovely  ponds 
and  glittering  pools,  past  monuments  and  lovely  bamboo  plats 
and  flowering  shrubs  and  casuarania- trees,  back  to  the  banyan- 
flanked  gateway  again.  It  is  the  finest  thing  in  Calcutta,  —  the 
wonder  of  the  world  in  shape  of  trees. 

But  we  must  see  the  burning  ghats.  The  Hindus  burn  their 
dead.  The  burning  ghats,  or  steps,  are  by  the  Ganges.  Driving 
there  we  find  a  long  brick  and  stucco  wall,  or  low  building  of 
stuccoed  brick,  and  passing  through  the  open  gate,  stand  in  a 
long  court,  open  above,  with  an  arcaded  river  front,  and  steps 
of  brick  leading  to  the  water's  edge.  Within  this  court,  a 
hundred  and  fifty  by  thirty  feet,  were  some  native  attendants, 
and  many  ash  spots  on  the  uneven  earth  floor.  One  plat  of 
ashes  was  yet  hot  with  recent  burning.  The  wood  was  all 
consumed ;  so,  too,  the  body.  The  attendant  was  raking  the 
yet  burning  embers  to  a  central  heap,  revealing  among  the 
ashes  bits  of  larger  bones  of  thigh  or  arm  ;  the  rest  were  all 
consumed,  and  these  slight  fragments  would  soon  be  but 
ashes. 

Further  on  was  a  pile  of  green  split  sapling  wood,  —  three- 
foot  wood  in  the  first  tier,  laid  across  a  slight  depression  in 
the  ground,  for  kindling  and  draught.  The  second  tier  was  of 
four-foot  wood  laid  crosswise  ;  and  thus  was  the  pyre  piled  up  in 
five  full  tiers,  the  sixth  having  but  two  pieces,  one  on  each  outer 
side,  between  which  the  dead  body,  just  brought  in  on  a  coarse 
bamboo  litter,  was  soon  to  be  laid.  The  corpse  was  that  of  a 
young  man ;  its  single  attendant  mourner  a  brother,  who  sat 
beside  the  lifeless  clay  in  deep  grief,  now  and  then  raising  the 
single  cerement  cloth  and  passing  his  hand  beneath,  gently 
patting  the   dead   one  on  the    face    and   chest,   and    sobbing 


I/O  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

bitterly.  Soon  was  brought  the  funeral  cloth,  a  long  white  strip 
of  cotton  fabric,  which  was  spread  upon  the  body,  which  an 
attendant  priest  then  sprinkled  with  holy  Ganges  water.  The 
half-naked  attendants,  aided  by  the  moaning  relative,  then 
gently  lifted  the  dead  body,  and  carefully  placed  it  on  the 
funeral  pyre,  on  which  more  sticks  of  wood  were  placed  until 
the  body  was  buried  out  of  sight,  —  all  save  the  head  and  feet 
and  lower  limbs,  which  extended  from  the  heap.  Over  all 
this  was  sprinkled  more  water,  and  upon  the  dead  man's  lips 
the  mourner  placed  some  bits  of  bread;  then  removing  his 
common  clothes,  he  put  on  a  robe  of  white,  and  while  the 
officiating  priest  said  some  ceremonials,  the  sorrowing  brother, 
saying  not  a  word,  or  making  any  moan,  but  quivering  in  every 
muscle,  took  from  the  hands  of  an  attendant  a  bunch  of  slowly 
burning  reeds,  a  rank,  coarse  grass,  and  three  times  walking 
around  the  pyre,  touched  the  mouth  and  feet  of  the  body,  and 
the  sides  of  the  pyre,  with  his  funeral  torch.  This  done,  he 
placed  the  burning  fagots  in  the  space  below  the  pyre,  then 
fell  exhausted  on  the  earth,  bursting  into  a  paroxysm  of  grief 
most  piteous  to  hear,  moaning  and  often  sobbing  out,  "My 
brother  !   oh,  my  poor  dear  brother  !  " 

The  priest  retired.  The  attendants  plied  the  long  dry  reeds 
below  and  above  ;  and  in  ten  minutes'  time,  despite  the  green- 
ness of  the  wood,  the  pile  was  hot  and  red  with  flame.  In  two 
hours  the  entire  mass  would  be  a  little  heap  of  ashes,  to  be 
gathered  up  and  scattered  on  the  placid  bosom  of  the  ever- 
sacred  Ganges. 

The  expense  of  this  primitive  sort  of  cremation  is  two  rupees 
eight  annas,  —  an  even  dollar  in  our  coin.  This  is  what  the  ghat 
is  paid.  The  cerement  cloth  and  priestly  attendance  bring  it 
up  to  about  five  rupees,  or  two  dollars.  But  the  priestly  aid  is 
unnecessary,  —  being  a  mere  matter  of  desire  and  financial  abil- 
ity on  the  part  of  the  bereaved. 

We  waited  half  an  hour  longer,  then  went  away.  Leaving 
the  ghat,  a  man  came  sobbing  up  the  river  steps  bearing  a  little 
white-muslin-covered  bundle  in  his  arms,  which  he  tenderly 
deposited  upon  the  earth.  Seeing  we  were  strangers  and  took 
a  kindly  interest,  he  bade  an  attendant  open  it.  The  untying 
of  the  thin  white  covering  revealed  the  not  yet  rigid  form  of  a 
little  girl  of  two  years  of  age,  brought  there  for  quick  cremation  ; 


INDIA.  171 

and  as  the  attendants  prepared  the  funeral  pyre,  the  dampened 
eyes  of  sturdy  men  turned  from  the  httle  one. 

Such  is  a  burning  ghat  in  Hindostan ;  a  blessing  to  its 
people.  Every  city  and  village  has  a  place  to  burn  its  dead, 
cheap  and  efficient.  Something  like  it  all  other  lands  should 
have.  The  process  is  a  clean  one.  I  have  stood  in  the  smoke 
of  the  funeral  pyre  some  iifty  feet  away,  but  could  detect  no 
odor  beyond  that  of  burning  wood. 
. 

Calcutta  is  no  place  to  stay  in  long.  Let  us  flee  to  the 
mountains  —  attack  the  Himalayas.  The  word  is  Sanskrit  — 
Jihna,  snow,  and  alaja,  an  abode,  —  "an  abode  of  snow."  Up 
there  by  easy  rail  these  wealthy  Calcuttans  go  to  rid  themselves 
of  torrid  heat,  returning  with  the  later  autumn  months. 

Darjeeling  means  "up  in  the  clouds;"  that  is  where  we 
are,  —  too  many  of  them.  They  drift  round  about  us.  They 
make  a  litde  rift  now  and  then  to  tantalize  with  glimpses  of  the 
gleaming  far-off  heights  of  snow  and  ice  and  sunset  rays,  way 
off  there  in  the  sky  like  frosted  silver,  rim-tinged  with  golden 
glint.  There  is  but  one  road  to  Darjeeling,  and  while  that 
leads  from  Calcutta,  it  also  leads  back  there  again,  for  which 
no  thanks.  But  it  is  a  curious  sort  of  road,  having  three  stages. 
First,  up  the  Ganges  valley,  over  a  good  common  railroad  with 
a  gauge  of  five  and  one  half  feet ;  second,  still  up  the  Ganges 
valley,  after  crossing  that  river  by  a  steam  ferry,  by  railroad  with 
a  gauge  of  two  and  one  half  feet ;  third,  seven  miles  further 
of  level  road  to  the  foot-walls  of  the  mountain,  and  thence  up- 
wards on  a  toy-train  over  a  gauge  of  two  feet.  The  entire  dis- 
tance is  three  hundred  and  sixty-seven  miles.  Now  we  are  at 
the  very  foot  of  the  Himalayas,  and  forty  miles  from  the  highest 
point,  which  is  some  six  miles  short  of  Darjeeling.  From  this 
mountain-foot  station  to  the  summit,  on  a  horizontal  line,  is  just 
ten  miles.  To  make  that  summit  point  we  must  rise  seven 
thousand  feet.  To  make  this  rise  we  must  travel  at  a  speed 
of  seven  miles  an  hour  a  distance  of  forty  miles.  We  have  a 
toy  engine,  a  toy  train  ;  the  toy  cars  accommodate  six  persons 
each ;  the  car  trucks  are  about  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  and 
the  distance  from  the  lower  edge  of  the  car  to  the  to])  of  the 
ties  is  nine  inches.  The  average  grade  per  mile  is  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  feet.     And  such  curves  !     We  are  on  the  rear 


172  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

seat  of  the  rear  observation  car,  and  sometimes  the  engine  is 
uncomfortably  near ;  then  it  darts  around  a  curve  and  is  out  of 
sight,  with  ha]f  the  train  with  it ;  then  it  comes  out  of  a  Iiole 
or  round  a  sharp  corner  on  the  other  side,  and  we  can  ahiiost 
get  a  square  loolc  into  the  face  of  the  engineer ;  then  it  bolts 
off  the  other  way  and  pulls  the  train  under  a  bridge  which  it 
gets  us  atop  of  in  less  than  two  minutes,  having  made  an  almost 
perfect  circle  on  a  radius  of  fifty  feet ;  then  it  goes  squirming 
along,  cutting  a  good  figure  8,  making  loop  after  loop,  '■  slab- 
bing" the  mountain-sides,  but  finding  itself  short  on  its  distance, 
stops,  backs  the  train  up  a  "  reverse,"  then  pushes  ahead  again, 
then  reverses  again  and  backs  us  up  another  "reverse,"  goes 
ahead,  makes  some  more  loops  not  so  round,  "  slabs  "  more  hills, 
then  makes  a  long  detour,  and  at  the  end  of  sixteen  miles  finds  it 
has  made  only  half  a  mile  ;  throws  another  loop  or  two  and  some 
more  "  reverses  ; "  fills  the  water  jacket  several  times  through  a 
bit  of  hose  from  an  iron  tank ;  then  gets  a  little  more  coal ;  and 
so  keeps  on  pulling  and  pufiing,  turning  and  twisting,  looping 
and  reversing,  —  now  on  light  grades,  now  on  stiff  ones,  —  till  at 
last  we  have  cleared  the  hill,  and  there  we  are,  —  seven  thousand 
feet  above  the  little  station  down  below,  and  only  ten  miles  or 
less  away  from  it  on  a  horizontal  line. 

But  look  down.  What  dizzy  places  !  Do\vn  the  steepest  of 
ravines,  down  into  jungles  of  thickest  vegetation  ;  down,  down, 
till  your  very  head  seems  slipping  from  your  shoulders,  and  your 
whole  body,  train  and  all,  seem  ready  to  rush  away  from  land 
and  catch  a  track  on  the  fleecy  back  of  an  abutting  cloud.  The 
very  earth  feels  unsteady  beneath  you  ;  and  yet  you  have  not 
lost  sight  of  palm-trees  and  the  broad  banana  leaves ;  tree  ferns 
abound ;  and  sleeping  in  the  jungled  thicket  not  ten  rods  away 
are  tigers,  snakes,  and  none  know  what.  The  mountain  streams 
go  rushing  past,  and  you  slip  by  some  lovely  silver  cascades  ; 
the  wide  old  mountain  cart  road  leading  over  to  Nepaul,  on 
which  the  iron  rail  is  laid,  is  filled  with  carts  of  produce  drawn 
by  tall-horned,  mild-eyed  mountain  oxen  and  cows  ;  people  with 
basket  packs ;  men  with  horses  ;  women  with  ankles,  arms  and 
ears  and  noses  well  loaded  down  with  silver  rings  and  balls,  brace- 
lets and  metal  spangles,  litde  ankle  bells  and  bangles,  fingers 
clogged  with  silver  rings,  and  rings  on  their  great  toes  ;  stout 
mountaineer  men  and  women  and  children,  all  on  their  way 


INDIA.  173 

up  and  down  the  steep  Himalaya  mountain  road,  —  a  wild  and 
curiously  picturesque  Asiatic  mountain  scene  ! 

It  is  a  day  of  days,  a  ride  of  rides,  a  scene  of  scenes,  all 
the  way  to  Darjeeling.  Fortune  had  been  very  kind,  but  she 
gave  us  the  slip  afterwards.  From  Darjeeling  next  morning  we 
wished  to  go  by  ponies  farther  up  to  Tiger  Point,  and  feast  our 
eyes  on  Mount  Everest,  the  highest  Himalayan  peak,  —  the  most 
ambitious  mountain  in  the  world.  Ponies  were  ordered  for  early 
dawn,  and  guides  were  engaged  for  the  enterprise.  Then  we 
went  to  bed,  and  slept  by  a  very  slow  wood  fire  of  sappy  moun- 
tain oak,  and  dreamed  of  grades  and  rocks,  and  mountain  peaks 
of  frosted  silver  edged  with  burnished  gold.  Then  morning 
came.  Great  masses  of  dark,  dense  clouds  came  rolling  inward 
from  the  north,  obscuring  everything.  At  a  quarter  to  seven  a 
rift  broke  in,  and  all  the  tops  of  the  mighty  range  before  were 
opened  out,  headed  by  lordly  Kinchinjanga,  28,136  feet  high,  a 
burning  golden  rim  paled  into  snowy  silver ;  Janu,  Kabru,  Chu- 
malari,  Pauhankin,  and  Donkia, —  the  lowest  more  than  twenty- 
tliree  thousand  feet,  —  a  glowing  crest  upon  the  world's  great 
roof,  gorgeous  beyond  comparison.  Then  came  another  cloudy 
phalanx  shutting  off  the  view,  burying  the  glorious  mountain 
sheen  far  out  of  sight,  drowning  the  fairy  mountain  dream  in 
most  opaque  oblivion.  How  did  we  wish  these  Lama-priests 
would  hang  out  their  prayer-rags  on  the  mountain-tops  instead 
of  upon  poles  from  shanty-tops,  to  paralyze  the  evil  spirits  of  the 
air  that  bring  us  so  much  disappointment.  I  went  back  into  my 
low-ceiled  room  and  drank  a  cup  of  wretched  coffee.  Then  for 
two  long  hours  I  paced  the  gravel  terrace,  hoping  for  relief; 
then  I  climbed  a  zigzag  path  behind  the  house,  seeking  to 
overlook  the  pressing  troops  of  clouds  and  thus  outwit  the 
piling  vapors.  But  as  they  slowly  moved  southward,  the  fleecy 
regiments  were  followed  up  by  murky  legions.  Eating  a  scant 
breakfast  in  clouded  silence,  gazing  forth  again  upon  the  thick- 
ening gloom,  in  deep  disgust  at  fortune's  freaky  treatment,  I 
said,  "Let's  pack  our  kit  and  take  the  train."  But  others 
said,  "Wait  and  win,"  I  said,  "  Go  and  find  better  luck  else- 
where." My  governor  was  more  evenly  poised,  and  proposed 
to  gamble  on  the  move.  All  right.  Take  the  rupee  :  heads, 
we  go  ;  tails,  we  stay  all  day.  The  empress-queen  was  on  my 
side,  —  her  face  fell  towards  the  sky ;  and  in  twenty  minutes 


1^4  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

we  had  placed  two  large  "  holdalls  "  and  a  hand  valise  on  the 
shoulders  of  a  ten-year-old  mountain  girl,  and  away  she  ran 
down  the  steep  footpath ;  while  we  great  hulking  men,  of  sixteen 
stone  at  least,  went  following  after,  musing  on  the  dignity  of 
labor.  Right  stalwart  these  Himalayan  mountaineers,  —  the 
six-feet  Nepaulese  and  Bhotans,  these  Thibet-Chinese  folks 
with  braided  queues,  and  iron  frames  inured  to  hardest  labor. 
Their  easy,  swinging  gait  and  self-reliant  air  are  reassuring. 
They  are  a  mighty  people,  but  don't  know  it.  The  women 
are  most  masculine,  and  loaded  down  with  brass  and  silver 
jewelry,  and  coral,  stone  and  glass,  bangles  and  chains,  brace- 
lets, anklets,  armlets,  and  rings  in  great  array,  —  great  brazen- 
looking  women  peddling  fruits  and  curios,  chatting  and 
laughing  at  each  other's  jokes.  Such  as  these  they  say  have 
several  husbands ;  for  such  the  custom  is  in  Thibet,  where 
the  wife  of  one  brother  is  the  wife  of  all.  It  is  the  border 
land  of  Buddha  and  Lama,  —  place  of  prayer-wheels  and  prayer- 
rags  tied  to  sticks  !  The  road  led  on  to  curious  lands  ;  but 
we  reluctantly  turned  back.  The  clouds  kept  rolling  in  and 
on,  and  the  toy  train  had  rolled  itself,  by  gravity,  half  down 
the  dizzy  mountain  road  before  we  left  the  murky  hosts  behind 
and  took  a  peep  at  clear,  pure  atmosphere.  But  I  don't  care 
much  for  mountain  work  and  mountain  peaks  and  snowy 
crests.  It  is  far  more  sociable  in  the  deep-cut  vales,  where 
one  may  sit  and  read  and  chat  and  gaze  aloft  from  easy  cush- 
ions. Let  others  do  the  climbing ;  we  can  look  at  them  and 
be  content. 

But  these  India  cars,  —  these  sleeping-cars,  —  we  rather 
like  them.  Two  wide  fore-and-aft  wall  seats  in  the  day 
coaches,  with  top  shelves  to  let  down,  make  four  good,  soft, 
leather-cushioned  couches  in  the  same  compartment,  with- 
out money  or  price.  Only  this  —  you  must  not  forget  to 
bring  along  your  own  bedding.  In  the  summer  you  will  not 
need  any ;  but  in  these  winter  months  in  northern  India  you 
will  need  a  quilt,  or  rug,  also  a  pillow  for  )'Our  head.  So  we 
bought  quilts  and  pillows,  which  we  pack  about  from  town 
to  town  as  others  do,  to  make  our  beds  withal  in  these  com- 
modious, closet-equipped,  first-class  Indian  cars.  It  was  a 
little  queer  at  first,  but  it  was  all  right  presently,  without  the 
aid  of  sleeping-car  conductor,  porters,  or  other  nonsense.     Not 


INDIA.  175 

alone  in  cars  are  these  pieces  of  baggage  needful  in  India ;  but 
as  the  people  here  go  off  to  see  their  friends,  or  to  hotels,  to 
stay  all  night,  they  needs  must  take  not  only  bedding  stuff 
along,  but  the  plainest  etiquette  demands  that  they  should 
take  at  least  one  servant  for  each  two  persons.  It  makes 
some  extra  trouble  and  expense  for  the  visitor,  to  be  sure ; 
but  then  the  visited  have  riglits,  and  this  is  where  they  are 
regarded.  Perhaps  an  improvement  or  two  of  this  sort  from 
this  far-off  heathen  country  might  fill  a  long-felt  want  in  such 
a  place  as  America. 

Benares  !  birthplace  of  Buddha ;  centre  of  that  faith  dear  to 
so  many  million  people.  What  Mecca  is  to  Mussulmans,  what 
Bethlehem  was  and  is  to  Christendom,  Benares  is  to  the  five 
hundred  millions  of  that  old  faith,  —  the  faith  that  bows  to 
Buddha.  For  are  not  here  the  holy  ghats  that  lead  down 
to  the  sanctifying  Ganges?  Is  not  here  the  well  most  holy, 
where  pilgrims  by  the  hundreds  of  thousands  come  wearily 
each  year  to  purify  themselves  before  they  cleave  the  Ganges 
flood?  Are  not  here  the  tree  of  knowledge,  here  the  sacred 
cattle,  and  the  noble  golden  temple  and  the  temple  of  the 
sacred  monkeys?  Here,  indeed,  are  there  not  seen  the  sacred 
footprints  of  the  sainted  Buddha,  and  even  those  of  Vishnu? 
Here  are  the  holy  doves  and  the  holy  pepul  tree,  —  these  and 
many  other  precious  things ;  precious  at  least  to  more  of  the 
children  of  the  Great  Father  of  us  all  than  own  to  any  other 
form  of  worship,  —  more  than  to  all  other  forms.  Here  is  the 
copious,  ever-flowing  Ganges,  whose  waters  touch  but  to  purify 
and  wash  away  all  taint  of  sin,  —  river  most  broad  and  deep 
and  wonderful !  Of  course  we  scoff  at  this  and  call  it  pagan 
superstition,  claiming  that  other  waters,  other  forms  of  ablu- 
tion, only  can  absolve  from  sinful  ways ;  but  still  the  years  roll 
on,  as  still  roll  on  the  ages,  and  yet  the  Ganges  faith  is  bright 
within  the  simple  souls  of  almost  countless  millions.  Thou- 
sands of  millions  have  washed  their  bodies  in  this  wondrous 
stream,  and  come  up  from  it  satisfied  and  happy.  Millions 
of  millions  of  bodies  burned  in  fire  have  had  their  ashes 
strewn  upon  its  placid  wave  in  hope  of  rest  eternal ;  and  still 
the  stream  gathers  its  forces,  and  its  devotees  gather  by  its 
banks,  and  may  do  so  in  all  the  ages  yet  to  come. 


1/6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Benares  is  a  place  most  foul  in  many  of  its  aspects ;  and 
as  you  wander  to  and  fro  and  watch  the  workings  of  its  native 
thought  and  people,  its  peculiar  forms  of  worship,  its  sculp- 
tured saints  and  shrines  and  devils,  its  worship  of  beasts  and 
faculties  obscene,  you  can  but  stop  and  wonder  how  these 
things  can  be,  and  how  these  serious-looking,  bright-eyed, 
clever  men  can  grovel  in  such  things  of  filth  as  one  sees  here. 
Mere  washing  in  the  Ganges,  —  "  great  river,"  —  or  in  any  other 
water,  is  a  good  thing  to  do ;  and  as  we  ride  by  boat  in  the 
early  morning  up  and  down  the  miles  of  bathing  ghats,  and 
see  the  masses  modestly  at  their  bathing,  we  find  no  room 
for  fault ;  for  do  not  all  good  people  believe  in  personal  clean- 
hness?  And  do  not  almost  all  religions  somehow  or  other 
connect  the  use  of  water  by  immersion,  or  by  sprinkling,  with 
their  holiest  rites?  The  Egyptian  did  it  twice  three  thousand 
years  ago.  The  Assyrian  did  it  none  the  less  ;  the  Jew,  too, 
did  it  in  the  puny  Jordan ;  the  followers  of  Islam  ha\'e  the 
self-same  faith ;  and  even  the  olden  priests  of  ancient  Mexico, 
the  Persian,  and  the  Peruvian,  held  the  same  idea  in  one  form 
or  another.     Whence  came  the  curious,  all-pervading  thought? 

Coming  to  Benares,  you  cross  the  bridge  of  boats,  drive 
past  the  city  of  the  natives  to  the  European  quarters,  and 
stop  at  Mrs.  Clark's  Hotel.  Mrs.  Clark  is  an  Eurasian.  "Eu- 
rasian "  is  a  made-up  word,  the  first  three  letters  standing  for 
an  European,  the  latter  five  for  an  Asian.  It  is  applied  to 
the  progeny  of  an  European  father  and  an  Asian  mother. 
Mrs.  Clark  is  a  rather  bright  and  tidy-looking  matron ;  she 
keeps  a  fairly  good  hotel,  and  sells  curious  things  in  beaten 
brass  and  gilded  sih^er  to  such  of  her  customers  as  choose 
to  buy.  The  dark-skinned  lady  met  us  at  the  door,  and  gave 
our  number  to  the  Hindu  serf,  who  led  us  to  our  rooms. 
They  were  large,  high,  and  airy.  Joined  to  each  room  was 
a  lavatory,  washing  basins,  closets,  but  no  baths.  The  beds 
have  iron  frames  made  in  Birmingham,  mosquito  bars,  sheets, 
and  blankets.  The  dining-hall  is  spacious,  —  plenty  of  air 
and  light  and  whitewash.  The  food  was  fair  and  quite 
sufficient ;  and  as  to  guests  —  a  houseful ;  for  all  wayfarers 
have  heard  of  Mrs.  Clark  and  her  fine  things  in  chased  Be- 
nares brass  and  golden  woven  fabrics  from  Benares  looms, 
and  here  they  surely  come. 


INDIA.  I  'J'J 

Excuse  a  diversion.  These  Hindu  woven  goods  in  silk 
and  gleaming  gold  and  silver  are  truly  magical.  The  house 
is  dirty  —  maybe  foul.  The  loom  is  worth,  in  all  its  wood 
and  strings  and  knotted  twine,  say  sixty-seven  cents,  not 
more.  And  yet,  within  that  unswept,  dirty  room,  squatted 
upon  the  floor,  facing  his  cheap  and  simple  trap,  the  weaver 
weaves  these  costly  fabrics,  —  silks  that  stand  on  edge,  so  stiff 
they  are  with  golden  thread  ;  silken  goods  in  such  wondrous 
patterns  that  kings  and  princes  stop  to  buy  ;  goods  that  by 
the  yard  will  cost  you  many  a  sterling  pound  ;  goods  that  in 
pattern,  gleam,  and  pure  effect  will  put  to  shame  the  richest 
goods  of  most  enlightened  nations,  all  made  by  the  deft  Indian 
hand  upon  this  cheap  and  simple  loom. 

After  a  good  night's  rest,  an  early  rising,  a  hasty  cup  of  tea 
and  toast,  we  take  an  open  carriage  to  the  bathing  places  and 
the  burning  ghats.  Arriving  at  the  water  side,  a  native  boat 
awaits  our  coming.  Stepping  aboard,  we  climb  a  little  stair 
and  take  an  easy  rattan  chair  upon  the  upper  deck.  Four 
men  with  oars  propel  us  up  the  river.  The  Ganges  ghats 
are  all  on  the  right  side  as  you  face  up-stream.  The  left 
side  is  without  virtue.  To  die  on  the  left-hand  side,  to  be 
burned  on  the  left-hand  side,  or  to  have  one's  ashes  strewn 
upon   the   left-hand   side,    is   a  serious   happening. 

We  row  along  the  ghat.  The  word  means  "  the  steps." 
A  lot  of  people  are  out  bathing,  —  bathing  and  praying,  — 
their  faces  to  the  east.  They  come  down  the  stone  steps ; 
plunge  in,  immerse  themselves ;  go  through  many  motions 
you  can't  understand  ;  wash  their  clothes,  dry  them  out,  and 
go  about  their  business.  All  is  modest,  feir,  and  decorous. 
Not  many  women  are  present ;  but  such  as  are,  observe  the 
strictest  rules  of  feminine  modesty.  Most  women  come  at 
three  o'clock  —  a  very  early  hour  —  to  bathe,  that  they  may 
do  so  unobserved  by  eyes  profane. 

We  pull  far  up  the  stream,  then  turn  around  and  float  much 
farther  down,  seeing  all  that  may  be  seen.  The  people  come 
and  go,  go  and  come,  as  they  have  been  doing  several  thou- 
sand years,  bathing  in  the  fluent  Ganges.  Great  rows  of  long 
stone  steps  come  to  the  water's  brink.  Great  rows  of  tall 
stone  houses  rise  behind  —  built  by  rich  kings  and  rajahs  as 
the   spacious  places  where  countless  pilgrims  find   both   roof 

12 


178  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  rest ;  where  pious  men  may  eome  to  live  and  think ; 
where  dying  men  may  come  and  breathe  their  last  and  have 
their  bodies  burned  upon  the  sacred  Ganges  shore.  Queer 
rambling  buildings  these,  built  of  brick  veneered  with  red 
sandstones,  with  steps  and  towers  and  battlemented  tops, 
domes  and  carved  temples,  shrines  and  lofty  minarets,  the 
whole  set  forth  in  very  much  confusion.  Some  are  rather 
new ;  others  go  sliding  down  upon  their  undermined  founda- 
tions ;  and  here  and  there  great  gaps  are  seen  where  sumptuous 
ghat  temples  and  shrines  and  caravansaries  have  slid  down  into 
the  watery  flood  and  passed  quite  out  of  sight,  save  where  a 
single  turret  top  still  keeps  its  chiselled  head  above  the  sweep- 
ing wave.  Most  treacherous  Ganges,  thus  to  undermine  and 
drag  away  the  costly  structures  built  to  do  it  honor. 

Leaving  the  boat,  we  wandered  on  the  bank,  about  the  sacred 
steps  and  pious  wells,  beneath  the  overhanging  limbs  of  shady 
sycamore  and  pepul  tree,  around  the  awful  temple  Nepaul, 
and  among  the  ponderous  implements  of  the  rare  old  observa- 
tory, followed  everywhere  by  would-be  guides  and  long-since 
graduated  beggars  clamoring  for  "  bakshish."  Curious  amid 
this  throng  of  worshippers  and  loutish  hangers-on  are  the  small, 
plump,  and  gentle  sacred  cows  and  heifers,  wandering  about 
up  and  down  the  steps  and  stairs  and  on  the  banks  and  ter- 
races, fed  by  every  one,  petted  and  worshipped  as  the  sacred 
cattle,  all  fat  and  sleek  as  pigs  in  clover.  The  bulls  we  saw 
within  their  marble  stalls  inside  another  temple, —  a  richly 
built  affair  within  the  native  city.  Upon  a  central  marble 
platform  floored  with  white  and  colored  marble,  railed  about 
with  marble  screens,  stood  a  most  sacred  cow.  Just  the  full 
extent  of  sanctity  of  this  small,  solid,  black-pointed  heifer  we 
cannot  say ;  but  she  was  surely  eating  rose-leaves,  tender 
grass,  leaves,  and  sweetmeats  tossed  upon  the  floor  by  earnest 
worshippers ;  while  down  by  her  fore-feet,  and  upon  bended 
knees,  there  crouched  a  richly  dressed  woman,  patting  Miss 
Bossy's  wrinkled  velvet  neck  as  if  she  sought  and  hoped  to 
gain  some  much-prized  special  good  or  favor.  Seeing  the 
rampant  sacred  bulls  beyond,  we  leaped  down  from  the  steps 
and  went  upon  the  sloppy  marble  floor  to  where  they  stood  to 
get  a  better  view.  This  action  being  noticed  by  the  attendant 
priests,  they  raised  their  hands  in  holy  horror,  and  with  opened 


INDIA. 


179 


outstretched  palms  they  motioned  fast  as  if  to  push  us  back, 
shouting  many  unknown  words.  Another  priest  jumped  down 
in  front  and  put  his  opened  hands  before  our  eyes,  barring  up 
the  way.  Seeing  there  was  loud  and  earnest  objection  to  our 
farther  progress,  we  returned  to  the  door.  Our  guide  said  we 
had  better  go  away,  for  over  there  among  the  sacred  stock 
some  high-toned  inmates  of  somebody's  harem  had  come  to 
do  some  curious  acts  of  worship,  which  made  it  improper 
for  gentile  strangers  to  hnger  about.  But  for  that  we  might 
have  seen  tlie  temple  stock  at  our  leisure.  Even  as  it  was, 
without  having  had  half  a  sight,  an  eager  priest  followed  us 
forth  and  bravely  begged  for  bakshish,  which  we  did  n't 
give  at  all,  but  went  straight  away  to  take  a  peep  into  the 
deep  Well  of  Knowledge.  It  stood  within  a  marble  canopy. 
Mounting  a  marble  platform  to  get  a  good  square  look  into 
its  depths,  we  found  it  mostly  covered  with  a  screen  of  cloth 
placed  there  to  catch  the  many  sacred  rose-leaves  that  were 
constantly  being  tossed  over  the  rim  by  ardent  devotees,  leav- 
ing only  room  enough  to  let  down  a  brazen  bucket  to  bring 
up  brackish  water,  of  which  the  people  drank,  and  dipping  in 
their  fingers,  rubbed  them  on  their  lips  and  eyes,  as  though 
it  were  possessed  of  some  rare  untold  virtue.  Oh,  the  infinite 
disgust  of  all  this  sort  of  stuff!  Dupes  of  the  lazy,  well-fed 
priests,  this  people  grovel  in  the  deepest  dirt,  and  call  it  sanc- 
tity. Worship  of  sacred  cows,  sanctified  bulls,  and  holy  hogs 
is  no  new  thing.  The  old  Egyptians  and  Jews  were  worshippers 
of  cattle ;  and  in  a  Chinese  temple  some  few  months  ago  we 
saw  some  sacred  swine  so  fat  and  old  and  lazy  they  could 
hardly  move  to  eat  their  food. 

k.  quaint  old  city  is  Benares,  and  full  of  all  forms  of 
lively  worship,  —  sometimes  of  cows  and  bulls,  again  of  idol 
forms  and  mischief-making  monkeys ;  one  thing  and  another, 
—  things  that  may  be  written  of  and  others  that  may  not. 
IMaybe  it  pays  the  traveller  to  stop  there  longer  than  Ave  did, 
and  look  more  carefully  into  these  curious  proceedings  ;  but 
a  few  hours  among  them  seemed  to  us  quite  enough,  so  off 
we  went  to  Lucknow  by  the  fastest  evening  train. 

Five  thousand  Europeans,  including  soldiers,  now  make 
their  home  in  Benares.  Across  the  Ganges  here  a  noble  iron 
railway  bridge  is  being  built;    and  several  Christian  churches 


l8o  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

raise  their  spires  to  heaven,  but  they  are  mostly  used  by 
white  folks.  The  Hindu  or  Islam  worshippers  stick  close 
to  their  own  forms  and  customs.  As  already  said,  pilgrims 
by  the  hundreds  of  thousands  flock  annually  to  Benares  as 
to  a  spot  most  holy ;  and  these  fanatic  hordes  who  come  to 
see  the  birthplace  of  Buddha  spend  large  amounts,  and  so 
Benares  pagan  piety  is  made  to  pay  a  rich  per  cent. 

The  native  streets  and  shops  show  thrift  and  skill.  Their 
skill  in  working  gold  and  silver  table  ware  is  excellent ;  while 
in  the  work  of  brass  there  is  nothing  like  the  rich  Benares 
goods  in  any  clime  or  country.  With  them  it  is  a  specialty 
which  no  one  else  seems  to  invade.  But  Benares  is  a  dirty  place, 
and  now  that  we  have  seen  it  we  almost  wish  we  had  skipped 
the  town  and  looked  up  better  ones.  There  may  be  wisdom 
here  yet  underlying  all  this  rot  and  rubbish,  and  no  doubt 
there  is  ;  but  life  is  much  too  short  to  learn  the  language  and 
become  a  pundit,  so  we  pack  up  and  ride  away. 

•  •  •  •  .  •  • 

Cawnpore,  —  "hotel  city."  Memorable  in  history  is  the 
mutiny  of  the  Sepoy  troops  of  India  in  the  never-to-be-for- 
gotten summer  of  1857,  when  the  bulk  of  the  native  military 
turned  their  guns  and  drew  their  swords  against  the  British 
troops  and  residents.  At  Lucknow  and  Cawnpore  were  the 
results  most  terrible.  The  older  people  of  to-day  well  remem- 
ber with  what  anxiety  they  looked  for  the  latest  news  from 
these  two  points,  where  the  lives  of  hundreds  of  men,  women, 
and  children  —  ay,  the  lives  of  thousands  —  hung  by  a  single 
hair ;  how  they  looked  for  the  advance  of  Havelock  and  Colin 
Campbell  with  their  troops  of  succor  ;  how  that  wail  of  anguish 
rent  the  air  of  the  whole  civilized  world  on  hearing  of  the  acts  of 
savage  outrage  and  of  brutal  murder  perpetrated  by  the  friends 
of  that  accursed  human  tiger,  Nena  Sahib,  worse,  more  treach- 
erous, and  devilish  than  any  which  the  world  has  ever  known. 

And  to  this  day  the  most  sadly  interesting  points  in  all  this 
Indian  land  are  those  of  which  I  write,  for  here  are  yet  the 
scars  of  furious,  brutal  warfare  and  most  fiendish  outrage  ;  here 
yet  beat  some  hearts  that  once  were  chilled  by  the  fearful  doom 
that  overhung  them  all  those  awful  summer  months  like  a  pall 
of  blackest  darkness.  At  all  points  but  the  Residency  at  Luck- 
now  are  the  war  furrows  much  effaced,  and  monuments  and 


INDIA.  1 8 1 

markings  only   attest   the  clays   and  deeds  of   long-continued 
horrors. 

The  surrender  of  Cawnpore,  under  the  oft-repeated  promises 
of  Nena  Sahib  to  give  safe  conduct  to  a  place  of  safety,  is  all  a 
matter  of  history.  So,  too,  the  breaking  of  that  oft-repeated 
pledge,  and  the  scenes  of  carnage  and  outrage  \  the  murder 
of  defenceless  women  and  their  children ;  the  filling  of  a  well 
with  their  mangled  bodies.  We  spent  a  few  sadly  interesting 
hours  among  the  places  of  these  deeds  of  death,  —  the  fine 
memorial  church  erected  to  the  memory  of  those  who  laid 
down  their  lives  in  defence  x>f  other  lives  they  held  more 
dear;  the  house  of  Nena  Sahib,  whence  he  gave  his  false 
assurances  and  whence  the  treacherous  orders  came  to  mur- 
der every  one  now  made  defenceless  by  his  promises.  Then 
we  visited  the  memorial  tomb  erected  above  the  fatal  well 
where  in  mangled  confusion  rest  the  remains  of  some  hundreds 
of  fair  English  dames  and  their  precious  children.  The  me- 
morial is  on  a  slight  artificial  eminence  in  the  centre  of  a  lovely 
garden,  and  near  where  stood  the  house  in  the  cellars  of  which 
this  frightful  murdering  was  done.  On  a  massive  brown-stone 
base  stands  a  noble  marble  statue,  —  a  sorrowing  angel  by  a 
cross.  The  whole  is  surrounded  by  a  handsome  screen  of  stone, 
within  which  you  enter  by  a  door  which  the  attendant  soldier 
opens.  No  native  Indian  is  permitted  to  place  his  foot  within 
this  hallowed  ground  where  rest  the  murdered  ones,  and  where 
the  bright-robed  angel  stands  saintly  guard.  It  is  most  holy 
ground,  on  which  you  tread  witli  gentlest  care  and  speak  in 
tones  of  tempered  cadence  ;  for  none  come  here  without  drop- 
ping tears. 

The  point  of  real  interest  here  at  Lucknow  is  the  Residency, 
within  whose  outer  walls  and  inner  rooms  the  besieged  held 
out  for  months,  or  till  the  Campbells  came.  The  Residential 
palace,  the  great  banqueting  hall,  in  the  deep  cellar  of  which 
two  hundred  and  fifty  women  and  children  spent  all  those  awfiil 
months,  the  hospital  and  the  Baillie  gate,  are  all  in  a  state  of 
ruin,  having  been  fired  by  the  mutineers  during  the  fight,  and 
after  the  women  had  been  removed  to  safer  quarters.  But  the 
ball  and  bullet  marks,  the  rents  of  shot  and  shell,  are  all  too 
plain  upon  the  dreary  walls  and  towers,  the  gates  and  columns, 
telling  more  plainly  than  words  can  tell  of  fierce  beleaguerment, 


1 82  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

of  days  and  weeks  and  months  of  brave  defence,  and  prolonged 
mental  torment.  Here  are  the  battered  rooms  in  which  brave 
men  died ;  here  too  the  monuments  erected  to  their  name  and 
fame  by  friends  and  country  so  well  served. 

And  here,  too,  is  the  ground  of  fearful  retribution.  In  dark- 
est hour,  when  life  was  ebbing  out,  and  hope  long-strained  grew 
dim  and  dark,  the  succor  came.  The  slogan's  distant  sound 
came  first  upon  their  ears,  the  crack  of  musketry,  and  longed 
for  cannon's  boom,  and  dawn  was  breaking,  —  a  gleam  of  hap- 
piest daylight.  Campbell  came,  and  Havelock,  with  their 
veteran  troops,  who  mowed  the  m.utineers  like  weeds.  Here 
is  the  high-walled  garden  ail  de  sac,  where  eighteen  hundred 
baffled  Indian  troops  were  cut  down  in  an  hour  by  Campbell's 
furious  men.  Here,  too,  on  the  terrace,  were  the  deep-mouthed 
cannon  from  before  whose  well-charged  throats  full  many  a 
fiend  was  blown  to  atoms,  and  so  far  as  possible  the  mutinous 
treachery  avenged. 

You  will  go  about  full  many  an  hour  in  this  fair  city  of  Luck- 
now,  and  read  no  end  of  interesting  story.  Temple  and  old 
fantastic  gates,  well-walled  harem  and  round-domed  mosque, 
all  contribute  their  share  of  interest.  The  great  Imambara 
is  a  noble  Oriental  palace,  extensive,  lofty,  lavish  in  decoration. 
It  is  a  pile  comprising  temple,  tomb,  harem,  and  spacious 
mosque,  covering,  with  its  curious  gates  and  stables,  servants' 
quarters,  gardens,  many  an  acre,  —  a  sumptuous  mass  of 
architectural  grace  in  brick  and  stone,  without  the  aid  of  a 
single  iron  beam  or  plank  of  wood,  in  a  building  with  a  hall 
one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  feet  by  fifty-two.  The  use  of 
brick  in  these  central  Indian  places,  where  stone  was  only  to  be 
obtained  from  far  away,  wood  scarcer  still,  and  iron  not  in 
use  for  building  purposes,  was  carried  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  excellence.  We  wander  through  the  spacious  halls  and 
dusky  corridors,  through  the  now  denuded  pilgrim  rooms  and 
harem  quarters  ;  climb  up  the  lofty  minarets  and  view  the  level 
city  far  and  wide,  —  its  mosques  and  Hindu  temples,  noble 
gates  and  shrines,  its  modern  churches  where  the  Christians 
worship,  its  founded  schools  and  hospitals,  its  fair  broad  roads 
and  shady  groves,  its  palaces,  domes,  and  slender  minarets,  — 
a  scene  of  great  magnificence. 

Descending  from  this  tower  of  observation  we  drive  away 


INDIA.  1 83 

to  Hosenabad,  or  lesser  Imambara,  to  see  the  marble  glories 
gathered  there  by  King  Mohamed  Ali.  Hosenabad  is  the 
most  lustrous  marble  gem  in  this  old  city,  —  built  with  gorgeous 
gate  and  marble  halls  when  precious  stones  were  used  with 
lavish  hands  to  furnish  decorations  for  the  columns  and  walls 
and  caskets  that  surround  and  encase  the  dust  of  these  old 
princes.  Here  is  one  of  the  Indian  attempts  to  imitate  the 
Taj  Mahal  of  Agra ;  and  though  very  rich  in  inlaid  marble 
work,  it  is  but  a  feeble  effort.  This,  and  the  inlaid  marble 
bathing  rooms  that  form  the  opposite  of  the  fair  garden  quad- 
rangle, are  something  very  fair,  —  a  dreamy  Oriental  luxury ; 
and  yet,  to  compare  these  jewelled  wonders  with  some  at 
other  cities  of  this  Indian  land  is  as  matching  night  with  day, 
good  things  with  far  better  ones,  the  common  with  the  best. 
The  halls  are  decorated  with  crystal  chandeliers,  tazzias,  and 
much  of  gilt  and  gewgaw  glitter,  —  hooks  for  placing  twenty 
thousand  candles,  with  which  on  great  occasions  it  is  illumi- 
nated ;  marble  groves  ;  hot  Turkish  baths,  with  sculptured  marble 
vats  large  enough  to  hold  a  dozen  people,  —  these  and  countless 
other  things  engage  attention,  and  we  go  away  well  cloyed  with 
sights  of  curious  things.  It  is  of  no  use  to  go  farther.  The 
traveller  who  takes  in  all  these  kingly  Indian  towns  in  only  a 
few  weeks,  their  temples  and  tombs,  their  gates  and  ghats, 
their  mosques  and  palaces  and  domes,  their  gardens,  forts, 
zenanas,  groves,  and  all,  must  leave  them  in  a  state  of  mental 
maze. 


184  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

INDIA. 

Agra  Fort.  —  The  Glories  of  Taj  Mahal.  —  A  Marble  Paradise.  —  Delhi, 
City  of  Indian  Potentates.  —  The  Story  of  Minar  Tower.  —  Shah 
Jehan's  Masterpiece.  —  Among  the  Jewelled  Temples. — A  Day  at 
Jeypore.  —  The  Horses  of  an  Indian  Prince.  —  A  Ride  on  an  Ele- 
phant.—  Bombay. — The  Worst  Hotels  in  the  World.  —  The  Caves 
of  Elephanta.  —  The  Towers  of  Silence.  —  Parsee  Burial  Customs. — 
A  Bombay  Hospital  for  Animals. 

AGRA  FORT  and  perfect  full-moon  nights,  —  a  precious 
paradise  !  I  am  not  going  to  write  from  Agra.  To  be 
able  to  do  so,  and  paint  with  pen  and  ink  a  vivid  picture  of  the 
Taj  Mahal,  might  satisfy  a  Milton  or  a  B}Ton,  neither  of  whom 
am  I ;  and  so  I  wipe  my  pen  and  fold  my  paper  and  bow  to 
the  inevitable. 

You  have  all  heard  of  Agra,  city  of  the  mighty  Akbar,  "  most 
powerful,"  and  of  Shah  Jehan,  "  king  of  the  world,"  —  men  of 
illustrious  birth,  of  kingly  traits,  mighty  in  war,  \\Tapped  up  in  love 
of  Saracenic  art  and  beauteous  women.  It  was  the  former  who 
founded  Agra  by  the  noble  Jumna  River,  founded  the  fort, 
planned  it  on  a  most  titanic  scale,  and  finished  it  with  varied 
skill,  —  he  and  his  son,  the  Shah  Jehan,  and  his  son  Aurangzeb. 
The  Akbar  tomb  is  a  walled-in  space  of  ninety  acres,  four-gated, 
glowing  with  bright  red  sandstone  and  Jeypore  marbles  interlaid 
with  white  and  black  and  green  and  other  colored  precious 
stone.  Its  lofty  gates  are  crowned  with  bubbling  domes  and 
gently  tapering  minarets,  cornice,  pavilions,  and  airy-like  kiosks 
that  crowd  the  wondering  gaze.  I  do  not  care  to  speak  of  dis- 
tances or  figures  ;  the  former  are  magnificent,  the  latter  too 
confusing.  The  inlaid  creamy  marbles  that  make  the  old  mon- 
arch's tomb,  —  tombs  of  his  Christian  and  his  pagan  wives,  tombs 
of  some  children  dear  unto  his  stern  and  kingly  heart ;  the  airy, 
well-secured  chambers  for  his  treasures  and  the  noble  ladies 
of  his  choice ;  the  grand  wTOUght  marble-lace  pavilion  rising 


INDIA.  185 

supreme  above  the  tomb-house  roof,  enclosing  the  mausoleum 
and  marble  pedestal  where  now  may  rest  old  Akbar's  bones, 
where  once  he  kept  his  precious  Kohinoor,  now  of  the  Kritish 
crown,  —  these  are  all  chiselled  pictures  or  poems  in  the  loveliest 
of  stone. 

But  no  one  comes  to  Agra  to  see  great  Akbar's  tomb.  No 
one  comes  here  to  see  the  pure  Pearl  Mosque ;  none  to  muse 
among  the  jewelled  glories  of  the  gemmed  zenanas,  whose  fairy 
jasmine  pavilion  and  the  carven,  gilded,  sensuous  marble  bed- 
room seem  like  a  bright  dream ;  no  one  comes  to  see  the 
stately  Hall  of  Audience,  with  its  dual  marble  columns,  base  and 
shaft  and  Saracenic  capitals  enriched  with  vine  and  leaf  and 
fragrant  flowers  wrought  out  in  precious  stone ;  none  come 
to  stand  within  the  genii-fashioned  bath-rooms  of  the  harem, 
flashing  with  myriad  mirrorettes  within  the  carven  spaces,  re- 
flecting at  ten  thousand  points  the  glinting  of  the  silver  cascade 
where  it  falls,  a  jewelled  bridal  veil  of  inwrought  rippled  marbles, 
with  tinted  flash  lights  set  behind ;  none  come  here  to  sit  within 
the  many-columned  hall  of  justice  where  kings  and  princes  have 
had  their  royal  seats,  — within  that  kingly  niche  of  pillared  marble 
richly  set  with  vines  and  lilies,  roses  too,  and  violets,  in  patiently 
wrought  carnelian  and  various  colored  lapis  work ;  none  come 
here  to  see  these  clustered  marbled  glories,  nor  yet  the  mimic 
fishing  pond  where  kings  on  sculptured  seats  have  lounged  and 
loitered  to  see  their  fair  court  beauties  disport  themselves  within 
the  perfumed  wave,  or  catch  from  tiny  boats  the  gold-finned 
fish,  or  dive  from  lotus  pedestals  like  so  many  sporting  mer- 
maids ;  none  come  here  to  see  the  gi-eat  black  blood-stained 
throne  with  jester's  seat  in  front ;  the  broad  floor  checker-board, 
upon  which  these  Oriental  monarchs  played  long  games  with 
beautiful  women  standing  on  the  squares  as  chessmen,  and 
moving  at  their  noble  lords'  behest ;  none  come  to  see  the 
arena  where  the  wild  beasts  fought  beneath  these  dizzy  balco- 
nies, nor  yet  to  see  the  tinted  sandstone  Hindu  palaces ;  for  are 
not  all  of  these  —  all,  and  far  more  than  I  have  merely  hinted 
at  —  within  these  daring  walls  of  Agra  Fort?  Verily,  it  is  not 
Akbar's  tomb  nor  Agra  Fort  that  you  come  here  to  see  ;  that 
men  and  women  wander  here  to  see  and  marvel  at,  come  here 
to  weep  and  ponder  over ;  not  these,  nor  such  as  these,  but 
lovely,  heavenly,  Taj  Mahal. 


1 86  A    GIRDLE  ROUND   THE  EARTH. 

To  see  this  thrice  lovely  marble  thought,  —  dedicated  at  its 
threshold  "To  the  Memory  of  an  Undying  Love,"  —  they  come 
from  every  nation,  every  clime,  to  feast  upon  it  by  the  sparkling 
daylight,  to  adore  it  by  the  softened  silver  moonlight ;  come  to 
its  presence  with  an  eager,  softened  step,  to  wonder  and  to  wor- 
ship, worship  and  wonder,  or  to  brush  away  the  quite  unbidden 
tear,  to  wander  about  its  richly  tessellated  courts,  or  stand 
enrapt  within  its  screens  of  glorious  marble  lace,  admiring  its 
lovely  lines  and  fairy  grace,  then  lingeringly  walking  away. 

But  to  describe  it :  there  's  the  rub  !  You  may  have  read 
many  descriptions  of  it,  —  those  of  Taylor,  Bernier,  Butler,  or  of 
Fergusson,  —  and  have,  as  I  had,  after  reading  them,  no  more 
conception  of  this  Taj  Mahal  than  you  would  have  of  some 
goodly  edifice  on  some  conspicuous  corner  place  of  the  New 
Jerusalem.  Its  simple  grandeur  in  the  distance,  with  its  pure 
white  minarets  and  bubbling  roof,  delights  your  eye,  but  only 
makes  suggestions. 

I  know  you  will  expect  to  know  from  me  just  what  the  Taj  looks 
like,  and  yet  I  dare  not  make  the  trial ;  for  if  it  should  be  told 
you  in  so  many  figured  feet  and  inches,  in  so  many  tons  of 
stone,  and  in  so  many  years  of  work  by  twenty  thousand  men, 
and  had  you  all  the  plans  and  scales  and  elevations,  sections, 
and  perspectives,  still  you  could  not  grasp  it.  It  is  like  unto  it- 
self and  nothing  else.  I  have  stood  at  Karnak  in  the  moonlight 
and  seen  the  titanic  columns  of  its  hypostylic  miracle ;  by  the 
Parthenon  and  Baalbec's  wondrous  piles  when  the  bright  moon 
was  full,  and  been  overwhelmed  by  these  grand  spectacles  ;  but 
this  is  not  that  ponderous  Egyptian,  Greek,  or  Roman  effort,  but 
more  rare,  luxurious.  Oriental,  —  the  house  that  came  down  out 
of  heaven  and  stood  here  among  the  lovely  garden  trees  and 
plashing  water  jets,  as  when  Aladdin  rubbed  his  magic  lamp  ! 
The  fine,  resplendent  marbles  stand  out  a-gleam  against  the  soft 
blue  sky,  the  magic  home  of  fairies,  profusely  lavished  o'er  with 
gems  of  many  lands.  You  watcli  the  softly  tinted  shades  that 
linger  round  its  deftly  carven  screens,  and  the  great  white  bul- 
bous figure  up  above  that  seems  about  to  rise  and  cleave  the 
upper  air ;  you  wonder  if  the  cut-off  deep-niched  corners  are 
not  the  outlook  stands  of  flitting  fairies,  or  long-lost  spirits  of  the 
grand  harem ;  you  fancy  that  the  inlaid  marbles  are  but  pic- 
tures in  your  present  dream,  and  wonder  if  when  you  awake  the 


INDIA.  187 

light  and  shade  and  tint  and  gleam  of  that  most  queenly  of  all 
fagades  will  vanish  into  air  ! 

I  speak  of  dreams ;  for  every  time  I  stand  before  that  marble 
revelation  I  seem  to  fancy  that  I  dream,  and  I  pinch  my  arms 
to  gain  true  sense  of  my  condition.  The  building  is  not  large. 
St.  Peter's  church  could  take  it  in  its  nave.  Before  some 
ancient  stone  and  marble  piles  it  would  become  a  pretty,  glitter- 
ing toy.  The  rich  raised  marble  terrace  upon  which  it  stands 
is  not  much  larger  than  your  city  squares,  and  this  marbled 
elegance  stands  on  a  little  less  than  a  full  acre  ;  yet  for  all  that 
its  beauty  is  a  mystery.  You  view  it  on  the  lower  terrace,  —  a 
space  of  half  a  dozen  acres  floored  with  red  sandstone  and 
white  marble  work  in  starry  pattern,  —  and  every  line  is  perfect, 
every  screen  a  miracle.  AValk  out  into  the  lovely  tropic  garden 
full  of  richest,  never-fading  foliage,  and  turning,  catch  new  par- 
tial glimpses  through  the  leafy  frame-work  of  the  tamarinds,  and 
every  marble  patch  outspread  against  the  star-set  azure  depths 
becomes  a  present  vision  of  the  ethereal  paradise  ;  and  as  you 
stand  there  breathless,  if  broad-winged  angels  should  swoop  down 
from  the  star-gemmed  vault  and  come  within  its  hallowed  screen, 
you  could  not  be  surprised.  You  dream  awake  of  soft  beclouded 
glories,  —  evanescent  joys.  This  is  the  Taj  Mahal  !  They  say 
the  gilded  finial  of  its  egg-shaped  dome  stands  more  than  seven- 
score  feet.  You  well  may  doubt  the  measure  :  it  pierces  to  the 
heavens.  They  say  that  twenty  thousand  unfed  men  wrought 
upon  it  a  full  score  of  years.  Your  faith  would  doubt  the  figures, 
for  it  arose  by  magic.  They  say  that  ten  millions  of  minted 
dollars  were  expended  on  its  workmanship.  You  don't  believe 
a  single  dollar.  Aladdin  did  not  work  for  pay  ;  his  ready  lamp 
was  all-sufiicient.  They  say  that  one  and  one  third  million  carts 
of  red  rock  and  marble  were  handled  to  make  this  fair  display 
of  gates  and  tombs,  fountains,  walks,  and  pilgrim's  caravansary 
galleries,  within  this  broad  and  cultured  space.  You  know  the 
tongue  is  false  that  tells  the  tale  :  there  are  no  stones  ;  you  walk 
in  space ;  the  vision  is  of  heaven.  As  well  might  John  of 
Patmos  prate  of  bullock-carts  and  stone  and  cost  of  craft  when 
writing  the  x-^pocalypse  ! 

But  no  man's  pen  can  tell  you  what  one  sees  and  what  one 
feels  while  in  this  magic  presence.  Description  is  a  beggar  in 
these  mystic  grounds,  and  all  assertion  of  mere  earthy  fact  a 


1 88  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

sacrilege.  A  trinity  of  times  we  wait  and  wonder  by  this  queenly 
Taj ;  then,  speechless,  rapt,  and  dazed,  we  seem  to  walk  away, 
hoping  for  yet  another  moonlight  dream  of  this  fair  paradise. 

The  brightest  and  fairest  edifice  of  all  the  world  was  built  by 
a  pagan  ruler  to  enshrine  his  best-loved  wife.  Such  a  compli- 
ment might  all  womankind  full  well  esteem.  The  grandest  of 
all  towers  of  the  world  was  begun  as  an  expression  of  a  pagan 
father's  love  for  a  thoughtful  and  loving  daughter.  Taj  Mahal 
at  Agra ;  Kutab  Minar  at  Delhi ;  most  beloved  Arjaraand, 
Moomtaz-i-Mahal,  wife  of  Shah  Jehan ;  devoted  Firoza,  the 
darling  daughter  of  the  ancient  Hindu  king.  Noble  wife  and 
well-beloved  daughter  —  what  on  earth  more  worthy  of  such 
special  recognition  !  As  the  Christian  pilgrim  yearns  to  see 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  before  he  breathes  his  last ;  as  the  devoted 
Hindu  prays  he  may  not  die  until  the  Ganges  flood  has  damp- 
ened his  parched  feet  and  washed  his  sins  away ;  as  pious  sons 
of  Islam  yearly  yearn  to  rest  within  the  Meccan  temple  of  the 
precious  Kaaba  stone,  —  so  too  may  women  from  all  the  world 
long  for  the  day  when  they  may  stand  within  the  great  Taj's 
lofty  gate,  behold  their  jewelled  temple's  glory,  drop  a  silent 
tear,  stand  speechless  in  the  presence  of  the  great  Minar,  and 
bless  the  fulness  of  that  sacred  love  that  gave  these  lasting 
monuments  to  mother,  wife,  and  daughter. 

This  is  the  old  and  far-famed  Mogul  city  of  Delhi,  city 
from  time  immemorial  of  the  Indian  potentates  ;  place  of  great 
strength  and  power,  its  great  treasures  at  once  the  pride  and 
envy  of  the  Oriental  world.  You  will  find  it  often  in  the  history 
of  wars  of  olden  times  and  new.  City  of  thrones  and  palaces, 
the  glittering  peacock  throne  was  here,  —  a  chair  of  state  that  in 
its  gorgeous  display  of  gems  and  precious  things  created  cupidity 
enough  to  wreck  a  kingdom. 

But  many  of  its  gorgeous  things  have  been  removed  by  lust 
and  loot  and  decay  of  power ;  yet  enough  remain  to  fasten 
your  attention  for  many  days  and  fill  your  brain  with  thoughts 
and  dreams  of  paradise.  The  great  attraction  here,  however,  is 
not  its  noble  walls  and  gates  erected  by  a  great  nation's  pride 
to  breast  the  tide  of  fierce  invasion ;  not  its  grand  old  defiant 
fort,  with  its  display  of  palace,  hall,  and  jewelled  mosque  ;  nor 
yet  its  noble  tombs,   gardens,  bulbed  mosques,  and   Oriental 


INDIA.  1 89 

baths  ;  but  the  grand  old  Kutab  Minar,  —  that  towering  edifice 
of  red  sandstone  and  marble  that  rears  its  stately  form  upon  the 
now  deserted  plains  of  ancient  Delhi. 

It  stands  out  in  the  country  ten  miles  from  the  present  city 
walls,  amid  a  mass  of  ancient  Hindu  temple  colonnades  some 
fifteen  hundred  years  of  age  ;  among  many  later  Moslem  arches 
now  in  solemn  ruin  ;  amid  the  crumbling  Islam  tombs  which  stud 
the  country  round  about,  the  solemn  remnant  of  a  once  great 
and  noble  capital.  The  ruins  of  a  grand  old  city  present  one 
of  the  saddest  of  all  serious  pictures.  Their  time-gnawed  frag- 
ments of  walls,  the  crumbling  bastions  and  toppling  towers  and 
domes,  their  gray  old  tombs  of  the  illustrious  dead,  and  dilapi- 
dated walls  and  grass-grown  moats,  tell  of  the  strong  defence  of 
jealous  guardians.  These  palace  ruins,  grassy  mounds,  and  bits 
of  sculptured  stone  so  scattered  here,  tell  us  of  kings  and  courts  ; 
of  princely  pleasures,  pride,  and  power ;  of  wars  and  certain 
decadence.  Such  is  the  plain  suggestion  as,  riding  forth  to  view 
the  central  points  of  this  once  famous  Delhi  city,  we  see  the 
great  Minar.  The  Minar  is  a  lofty  tapering  tower,  built  by  Rai 
Pithora  so  many  centuries  ago  that  no  one  seems  to  care  to  fix 
a  date.  Its  story  is  like  this  :  The  mighty  prince  —  for  so  this 
old-time  Hindu  romance  runs  —  had  a  lovely  daughter,  name 
now  unknown.  He  was  very  fond  of  her  and  granted  her  every 
wish.  It  was  a  way  they  had  in  those  good  old  Oriental  times, 
and  is  a  way  that  even  modern  fathers  sometimes  have  when 
they  can  afford  it,  and  when  their  daughters  manage  matters 
well.  Suppose  we  call  her  Miss  Firoza.  She  was  a  lovely  little 
Hindu  princess,  much  attached  to  her  religion.  Daily,  as  the 
sun  came  forth  to  bless  her  father's  fair  domain,  this  pretty, 
pious  pagan  went  down,  attended  by  her  maidens,  to  the  spa- 
cious marble  temple,  —  the  marble  ghat  that  faced  the  Jumna  as 
it  rolled  its  bright  blue  waters  past  the  gardens  of  the  palace, 
—  gardens  more  exceeding  rare  than  even  those  of  Shalimar. 
Every  day  she  went  to  the  Jumna,  a  branch  of  the  sacred 
Ganges,  bathed  within  its  holy  waters,  and  said  her  prayers 
within  the  temple.  From  her  lovely  harem  lattice,  where  she 
sat  and  watched  the  fountains,  read  the  rolls  of  Hindu  wisdom, 
slept,  or  chatted  with  her  maidens,  no  view  of  the  sacred  waters 
was  possible.  So  one  day  when  she  had  pleased  her  father  very 
much  and  said  her  prayers  with  much  precision,  counting  her 


I  go  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

beads  with  rapt  attention,  he  asked  her  what  he  should  do  to 
increase  her  daily  round  of  pleasure.  There  are  some  girls  who 
would  have  remembered  then  and  there  about  a  lovel)'  spray  of 
diamonds,  or  some  laces,  velvets,  silks,  or  satins ;  but  this  young 
pagan  princess  mentioned  nothing  of  the  sort.  She  stood  up 
by  her  kingly  father,  placed  her  hand  upon  his  forehead,  told 
him  that  she  loved  the  Jumna  above  all  things  earthly,  next  to 
him.  She  loved  its  ever-cleansing  current,  its  ever-pure  and 
holy  waters,  and  wished  there  were  about  the  palace  grounds 
some  elevated  safe  pavilion  where  she  might  sit  among  her 
maidens  overlooking  all  the  temples,  all  the  domes  and  palace 
gardens,  and  see  at  will  the  lovely  Jumna.  The  wish  was 
granted.  Straightway  the  king's  architect  produced  a  plan  for 
such  a  tower  as  the  world  had  never  seen,  —  bold,  graceful,  and 
artistic.  It  was  built  of  fine  pink-tinted  sandstone,  circular  in 
shape,  —  a  seeming  mass  of  convergent  clustered  columns,  com- 
posed of  alternate  round  and  rectangular  faces,  belted  about  with 
broad  plain  bands  on  which  are  now  seen  in  encircling  verses 
from  the  Koran  the  nine-and-ninety  names  of  the  Almighty,  the 
praise  of  the  caliphs  and  nobles,  cut  there  in  after  ages  by  the 
conquering  Moslems.  This,  the  now  lower  section  of  the  Minar, 
is  ninety-five  feet  in  height,  and  has  a  bold  and  richly  orna- 
mented projecting  balcony.  On  the  top  of  this  was  fair  Firoza's 
fine  pavilion,  where  she  was  pleased  to  while  away  her  pleasant 
daytime  hours  in  full  view  of  the  lovely  Jumna. 

Sometime  farther  on,  when  Rai  Pithora's  reign  had  long  since 
passed  away  and  Saint  Firoza  slumbered  in  the  tomb,  came  here 
in  warlike  hordes  the  Islam  conquerors,  planting  the  crescent 
faith  with  fire  and  sword.  Old  Delhi  came  into  their  hungry 
grasp,  the  Hindu  idol  forms  were  smashed,  their  gorgeous  tem- 
ples transformed  into  mosques,  the  faith  in  Chrishna  stamped  out 
to  make  room  for  that  of  fierce  Mahomet.  Then  Kutb-ud-din, 
most  ambitious  Arab  ruler,  sought  to  exalt  this  noble  column 
and  make  it  a  minar,  —  a  lofty  appendage  to  the  great  mosque 
close  by.  He  raised  it  another  story,  added  fifty  feet,  put  out 
another  ornamental  balcony,  on  which  the  holy  muezzin  might 
daily  stand  and  call  the  faithful  ones  to  prayer.  This  story  is 
also  like  to  clustered  columns,  —  columns  round,  smooth,  and 
belted.  On  the  bands  we  read  more  Koran  verses  concerning 
Friday  prayers,  and  some  flowing  sentences  of  self-laudation  of 


INDIA.  191 

King  Altamash,  who  is  said  to  have  added  the  two  more  upper 
stories.  The  third  story,  unlike  the  second  but  partly  like  the 
first,  is  of  clustered  rectangles  without  the  rounded  flutes,  and 
on  its  bands  or  belts  the  fierce  old  ruler  sounds  forth  the 
praises  of  himself  in  choice  Arabic  characters.  This  story 
mounts  some  forty  feet,  and  has  a  florescent  cornice  supporting 
a  fair  red  stone  balcony,  on  which  you  step  with  rather  cautious 
feet  lest  your  unusual  weight  might  topple  down  the  mass. 
Here  holy  men  have  stood,  and,  closer  to  the  gates  of  paradise, 
implored  the  faithful  that  they  leave  their  houses,  stores,  and 
shops,  and  come  forth  to  make  prayers  to  Allah- Akbar,  the  only 
living  God,  all-powerful.  The  fourth  and  fifth  stories  are  alike 
in  outward  show,  but  are  unhappily  different  in  material,  being 
crusted  with  white  marble  and  divided  by  a  rather  cramped  bal- 
cony, quite  unused.  Atop  of  this  some  years  ago  there  was  a 
fair  pavilion,  the  crown  of  all.  This  long  since  has  disappeared, 
demolished  by  a  lightning  stroke  that  sent  it  crashing  down, 
and  it  has  not  been  restored,  but  one  much  like  it  has  been  set 
up  below. 

The  entire  height  of  the  tower  was  probably  about  two  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet,  now  two  hundred  and  thirty-eight,  with  a 
base  diameter  of  forty-eight  and  a  top  one  of  nine,  —  the  most 
impressive  structure  of  the  sort  the  world  has  ever  seen.  The 
Campanile  of  Giotto  at  Florence  is  thirty  feet  higher,  but  is  not 
so  impressive,  being  dwarfed  by  its  contiguity  to  the  great 
cathedral.  The  porphyry  minarets  at  Cairo,  the  obelisks  at 
Karnak,  the  minarets  of  Benares  or  of  Lucknow,  are  rather 
weak  and  tame  when  compared  with  this  at  Delhi.  It  absorbs 
you,  controls  you,  calls  you  back  again.  As  with  the  great  St. 
Peter's  church,  or  old  St.  Mark's  at  Venice,  the  cathedral  at 
Toledo,  the  hypostyle  at  Thebes,  the  Parthenon,  the  Coliseum, 
you  are  quite  overwhelmed  and  know  not  what  to  say  or  think. 
Language  loses  force  ;  you  gaze  and  wonder,  spellbound,  go  and 
come  again  and  again,  regardless  of  volition. 

An  easy  stair  within  the  tower  conducts  you  to  the  top,  which 
has  a  stout  protecting  metal  rail,  and  affords  a  free  view  of  the 
wide-spread  ruins  of  the  ancient  cities,  the  modern  city  quite  ten 
miles  away,  and  the  wide-spreading  lovely  Jumna  valley.  You 
reach  the  Kutab  Minar  by  a  well-kept  carriage-way  that  leads 
across  the  plain  past  the  grand  old  tomb  of  Humayun,  the  anti- 


192  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

type  of  the  fairer  Taj  Mahal  at  Agra ;  the  rich  and  interesting 
tombs  of  Nizamudin,  the  ruined  city  of  Firozabad,  a  sometime 
gorgeous  place  ;  then  along  the  clean,  smooth  road,  the  Appian 
Way  of  Delhi,  beneath  the  grateful  shade  of  avenues  of  neem 
and  pepul  trees,  and  sress  and  frass  and  goolas,  all  the  time 
in  sight  of  low-domed  tombs  and  ruined  walls  of  many  a  noble 
mosque  and  palace,  — remnant  ruins  of  the  grand  and  gone  old 
Hindu  city  of  Rai,  the  mighty  king,  the  father  of  Firoza.  Near 
by  the  towering  Kutab  stands  the  crumbling  foundation  of 
another  great  minar  begun  on  a  much  grander  scale,  planned  to 
rise  five  liundred  feet,  but  stopped  at  eighty ;  some  conqueror 
having  come  along,  or  else  the  general  manager  died,  or  the 
imperial  bank  had  failed ;  at  all  events,  the  tower  was  not 
completed ;  so  there  is  one  less  minar  in  the  world  for  aspiring 
travellers  to  see  and  climb. 

The  great  old  iron  pillar  also  stands  near  by,  the  most  re- 
markable piece  of  real  ancient  iron-work  in  the  wide  world. 
We  read  of  those  of  brass  or  bronze,  but  they  are  gone  long 
since  ;  but  here  is  set  up  a  cylinder  of  well- wrought  hammered 
iron  bronze,  nearly  sixty  feet  in  height  and  sixteen  inches 
through.  It  rises  nearly  thirty  feet  from  the  surface,  and  marks 
show  that  it  has  been  excavated  to  the  depth  of  six  and  twenty 
feet  without  destroying  its  stability.  They  say  that  it  was  set  up 
here  by  Bilian  Deo,  a  Hindu  prince,  some  seventeen  hundred 
years  ago  ;  that  it  is  of  nearly  pure  iron,  with  bronze  enough  to 
keep  it  from  rusting,  and  weighs  some  seventeen  tons.  How 
it  came  to  be  made,  how  it  was  possible  at  so  early  a  date,  or 
even  in  Europe  sixty  years  ago,  to  do  such  a  ponderous  piece 
of  forging,  is  not  so  well  understood.  At  all  events,  it  is  there, 
with  its  old  Sanskrit  inscriptions  and  capital ;  there  in  the  midst 
of  a  most  rare  old  Hindu  temple  ruin,  whose  many  scores  of 
richly  sculptured  crimson  columns  and  curiously  built  ancient 
domes  are  now  the  wonder  of  the  world. 

Another  curious  columnar  feature  of  this  day's  pilgrimage  to 
the  Minar  is  the  monolithic  pillar  at  Firozabad,  the  column  of 
Azoka.  It  is  a  plain  round  shaft  of  pinkish  sandstone,  Wghly 
polished,  forty-eight  feet  high,  brought  here  from  Jobra,  where 
it  was  set  up  by  a  king  whose  name  it  bears,  some  two  thousand 
years  ago.  It  has  some  sentences  engraved  upon  it  in  native 
Palt,  the  true  meaning  of  which  is  ciuite  unknown.     The  history 


INDIA.  193 

of  its  pulling  down  and  bringing  here  and  setting  up  again  is 
curious,  as  it  furnishes  an  idea  of  how  these  things  were  done 
in  ancient  times.  Around  the  huge  column  vast  quantities  of 
silky  tree-cotton  were  spread  and  piled  for  it  to  fall  upon  when 
it  should  be  digged  about.  It  fell  upon  its  pillows  without 
harm  ;  and  a  carriage  of  forty-two  low  wheels  was  made,  and 
many  thousand  harnessed  men  with  ropes  pulled  the  load  upon 
it.  To  each  axle-end  a  strong  rope  was  fixed,  and  two  hundred 
men  at  each  rope  pulled  the  laden  cart  to  the  river,  where 
it  was  placed  on  boats  and  brought  in  triumph  to  Firozabad. 
Then  a  series  of  long  steps  was  built,  up  which,  one  at  a  time, 
the  pillar,  cased  in  tree-cotton  wrapped  about  with  rams'  skins, 
was  rolled  by  unlimited  man-power,  and  thus  in  time  it  reached 
its  proper  elevation,  and,  turned  upon  the  steps,  was  slid  to  its 
footing,  and  stout  ropes  with  blocks  manned  by  several  thousand 
natives  brought  it  to  its  perpendicular,  where  it  has  since  stood, 
a  most  noted  monument.  But  the  city  round  about,  the  noble 
walled  and  stoutly  gated  city,  —  city  of  many  a  palace  fair  and 
beauteous  garden,  city  of  wondrous  temples,  tombs,  and  teem- 
ing population,  —  is  now  no  more,  except  in  wide-spread  mas- 
sive ruin.  The  grand  old  courts  of  Firozabad  are  gone ;  gone 
its  myriad  people ;  gone  its  halls  and  walls  and  marts  and 
princely  piles,  —  all  gone  but  this  pillar  of  Azoka,  with  its  time- 
worn  toppling  ruins.  Camels  and  goats,  country  ox-carts,  men 
in  quaint  barbaric  clothes,  were  scattered  here  and  there ;  while 
hard  by  was  a  gypsy  camp  witli  over-jewelled  dancing  girls, 
playing  such  musical  instruments  as  were  here  in  use  long 
centuries  ago. 

Here  in  this  neighborhood  of  fifteen  miles'  circumference 
have  been  some  mighty  and  most  populous  cities,  first  founded 
long  before  our  era.  One  after  another  was  built  and  met  its 
doom  ;  once  or  twice  the  Jumna  has  changed  its  course,  and 
the  city  followed  it ;  many  a  time,  and  rather  too  often  for  com- 
fort, half-barbaric  kings,  attracted  by  the  immense  wealth  that 
centred  here,  have  swooped  down  and  looted  it.  The  Islam 
armies  planted  the  standard  of  Mahomet  here,  and  have  kept 
their  hold  pretty  well  ever  since ;  and  later  on  the  fearful  Per- 
sian general,  Nadir  Shah,  plundered  its  palaces,  mosques,  and 
tombs  of  four  hundred  million  dollars'  worth  of  gems  and  gold 
and  other  precious  things  ;  then   more  and  more  it  was  con- 


194  ^    GIRDLE  ROUiVD    THE  EARTH, 

quered,  moved  about,  and  looted,  until  to-day  it  is  a  mere 
skeleton  of  what  it  was. 

But  there  are  many  very  pretty  things  in  Delhi  yet,  as  we 
shall  see  later  on.  The  streets  are  broad  and  clean ;  the  bazaars 
and  shops  and  little  factories  make  show  of  thrift  and  decency ; 
the  crowds  of  people  thronging  the  streets  and  market-places, 
dressed  in  their  robes  of  white  and  every  bright  warm  color 
you  can  mention,  form  a  most  interesting  moving  picture. 
None  are  better  dressed  than  these  people,  as  the  fashion  goes  ; 
none  bear  more  earnest  and  serious  looks ;  and  none  are  more 
polite.  Whether  in  shop  or  store  or  on  the  street,  these  dark- 
skinned  heathen  teach  us  politeness.  In  going  to  the  Kutab 
you  may  see  quite  a  lot  of  beggars,  but  even  these  were  fairly 
decent  in  their  begging,  —  a  better-dressed  beggar  class  than  is 
often  seen. 

A  few  more  days  in  Delhi.  (Pronounce  it  "  Del-le,"  accent  on 
the  first  syllable.)  The  word  means  "  loose."  When  the  priests 
and  king  dug  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  tall  iron  column  at  the 
old  Hindu  temple,  near  this  charming  Oriental  city,  to  see  if  it 
indeed  rested  yet  upon  the  serpent's  head,  and  blood  was  found 
instead,  they  all  took  fright  and  straightway  filled  the  hole,  but 
so  loosely  that  ever  afterward  the  ponderous  shaft  stood  very 
dim,  "loosely,"  in  the  ground;  so  from  the  ''dilli"  column  was 
Delhi  city  named.  There  have  been  several  cities  here,  and  close 
upon  this  spot  the  ancient  city  was  founded  some  2,200  years 
ago  by  Hindu  folks ;  then  two  or  three  more  modern  ones,  of 
two  or  more  different  names,  all  of  which  have  mostly  disap- 
peared save  wasting  chunks  of  fortresses,  within  whose  crum- 
bling vaults  the  farmers  keep  their  oxen  and  their  goats  ;  some 
towering,  moatless  walls,  now  too  long  quarried  to  make  sub- 
stantial showing.  But  the  tombs  !  the  country  is  covered  all  over 
with  them  for  miles  and  miles  around.  The  tombs  remain,  — 
Hindu  and  Moslem.  The  Moslem  inters  his  dead  as  Christians 
do  ;  the  Hindu  cremates,  but  also  builds  memorial  tombs.  So, 
though  the  dwellings,  shops,  and  palaces  of  living  men  were 
demolished  and  removed,  or  left  to  crumble  there  for  want  of 
care,  the  houses  of  the  dead  were  well  respected  and  so  kept 
in  fair  repair  that  they  remain  intact.  The  sight  of  so  many 
round-topped  Saracenic  tombs,  scattered  broadcast  near  and  far, 


INDIA.  195 

at  first  is  quite  confusing.  You  wonder  how  it  came  they  had 
so  large  a  burial-ground. 

Whatever  these  long-lost  cities  might  have  been,  the  living  is 
crowded  full  of  interest.  Shah  Jehan  was  a  man  of  vast  expe- 
rience in  city  engineering,  as  well  as  in  making  war  and  ruling 
over  empires.  Warrior  and  statesman  though  he  was,  he  in- 
dulged his  taste  for  planning  palaces  and  forts  and  gates  and 
fairest  mosques  and  tombs  and  shrines.  The  best  of  archi- 
tects, cunning  carvers  of  marble,  workers  in  hard  and  precious 
stones,  he  called  from  his  and  other  lands.  These  skilful 
workers  would  fill  the  sides  of  their  clear  marble  blocks  with 
vines  and  leaves  and  loveliest  flowers,  in  closest  imitation  of  the 
living  fact,  and  coat  the  spaces  over  with  thick  sheets  of  beaten 
gold  so  well  laid  on  that  centuries  have  not  effaced  their  pre- 
cious gleam.  Of  raw  material  and  men  to  bring  it  here  and  do 
the  work,  unlimited  supply  was  at  his  beck.  If  thousands  per- 
ished working  at  their  tasks,  still  thousands  more  were  ordered 
to  their  place. 

So  after  he  had  made  Agra  a  most  beautiful  city,  crusting  its 
halls  and  palaces,  its  noble  tombs  and  gates,  with  richly  inlaid 
marbles,  he  seemed  to  tire  of  it ;  at  least  he  looked  for  other 
urban  fields  to  conquer.  Besides,  his  favorite  wife  had  died,  and 
was  laid  within  her  catafalque  in  lovely  Taj  Mahal.  It  is  said 
he  tired  of  the  spot,  and,  as  if  to  blunt  the  keen  sense  of  his  loss, 
turned  his  attention  elsewhere.  He  came  to  Delhi ;  came  here 
and  put  his  energies  to  work  to  build  another  city,  —  something 
that  would  outshine  all  former  effort,  and  stamp  his  name  and 
skill  forever  on  the  world.  To  this  end  the  new  city  he  vainly 
named  Shahjehanabad,  "  City  of  Shah  Jehan."  Vain  hope  ! 
The  new  city  was  populated  by  those  who  had  lived  in  old 
Delhi,  close  by,  which  was  fast  falling  into  ruin,  and  as  they 
persisted  in  calling  the  new  city  by  the  same  name,  the  other 
one  wore  out  and  came  to  be  discarded  altogether ;  so,  in  defi- 
ance of  a  monarch's  vanity  and  power,  this  place  he  built  to 
perpetuate  his  own  name  is  known  by  another. 

But  to  fourtd  this  place  he  chose  most  spacious  ground,  laid 
out  broad  streets  and  airy  open  spaces  on  a  sumptuous  scale. 
The  fort  he  built  is  large  and  belted  round  with  thick  and 
frowning  crenellated  walls,  with  moats  and  ponderous  gates  of 
iron   cased  with  figured  bronze  and  bossed  with  many  nails, 


1 96  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  whole  detached  from  mosques  and  city  streets ;  and  so  it 
comes  to-day  that  Delhi  is  the  fairest  and  most  attractive  of  all 
these  so-called  half-barbaric  cities.  Its  main  thoroughfare  — 
Chandnee  Chovvk,  "the  Street  of  Silver"  —  is  tenscore  feet 
in  width.  It  has  a  wide  elevated  walk  along  its  centre,  shaded 
with  handsome  pepul-trees,  dotted  with  wells  and  fountains. 
On  either  side  of  this  are  broad,  smooth  carriage-ways  all  lined 
with  stores  and  shops  teeming  with  wares  of  Oriental  make, 
amidst  which  the  thrifty  merchant  squats  upon  the  well-clad 
floor,  smoking  his  pipe  or  bargaining  with  his  customers,  'i'he 
residence  streets  are  narrow.  The  houses  are  well  built,  with 
numerous  httle  stalls  niched  into  their  fronts,  where  artisans  in 
curious  goods  sit  at  their  work  and  sell  their,  stuffs.  Among 
these  are  many  a  pretty  mosque  and  Hindu  temple,  some  made 
of  well-wrought  marbles  overlaid  with  deftly  gilded  work,  with 
costly  shrines  where  sit  enrobed  in  gold  and  precious  stones 
their  silent  heathen  gods.  To  see  these  people  work  on  gold 
embroidery,  forming  fine  fabrics,  beating  gold  and  silver  leaves 
and  precious  metal  wire,  to  see  them  moulding  vessels,  pound- 
ing brass  and  steel,  inlaying  copper  and  making  leather  things, 
is  a  perpetual  feast  which  we  enjoy  from  day  to  day. 

The  choicest  edifices  of  court  and  state  are  found  within  the 
fort.  The  mosque  is  a  perfect  gem  ;  small,  of  purest  Saracenic 
mould,  of  rarest  Jeypore  marble  ;  its  floors  inlaid  with  precious 
stone  and  metals ;  fair  columns  crusted  over  with  feats  of  lapi- 
dary art,  supporting  foliated  arches  and  inwrought  marble  domes 
of  rare  conception.  All  the  floor  is  spaced  and  figured  off  in 
Mecca  domes,  —  one  for  each  royal  worshipper  and  the  members 
of  the  courtly  train.  No  plebeian  worshipped  here.  The  priestly 
chairs  and  rostra  are  in  open  work  of  carven  marble,  cut  in  vine 
and  stem  and  leafage,  interstrewn  with  many  precious  stones. 
The  holy  water  fonts  within  the  tessellated  court,  where  devotees 
may  dip  their  hands  and  feet  in  pious  thought  before  they  kneel 
to  pray,  are  very  spacious,  rimmed  about  with  lovely  fretted 
marbles,  the  whole  court  inwalled  with  sculptured  panels,  and 
gated  with  solid  marble  leaves  hinged  on  with  figured  bronze. 

But  the  grandest  work  of  all  is  the  Dewan-i-Khas,  "  hall  of 
private  audience,"  —  great  Hall  of  Ambassadors  that  overlooks 
the  rolling  Jumna.  It  and  its  outer  rooms  and  baths  are  more 
perfect,  more   elaborate  and  fair,  more  costly  in  garnishment 


INDIA.  197 

of  inlaid  flowers  with  jewelled  leafage,  fruit,  and  precious  work, 
than  one  could  well  conceive.  This  room,  or  cluster  of  rooms, 
was  great  Shah  Jehan's  proud  masterpiece.  The  gold  he  lav- 
ished on  its  stout  and  graceful  pillars,  piers,  arches,  and  niches 
would  make  a  country  rich  ;  and  so  perfect  and  so  richly  pro- 
fuse the  work  that  although  twelve  scores  of  years  have  passed, 
and  plundering  hands  have  robbed  it  of  its  most  precious  things, 
yet  is  the  picture  one  of  unspeakable  grandeur,  and  you  wonder 
more  and  more  how  such  embellishment  should  thus  have 
lasted.  The  ceiling  was  of  solid  silver  plates,  moulded,  en- 
graved, and  gemmed  with  flashing  stones  ;  the  rails  and  doors 
and  furniture  were  wrought  in  the  same  metal ;  and  in  the  midst 
of  all  this  gorgeous  display  of  creamy  marbles,  lapidary  work, 
and  hangings  of  silk  inwrought  with  flowers  of  pure  beaten 
threads  of  gold,  —  amidst  all  this  sublime  array  stood  Shah 
Jehan's  far-famed  peacock  throne.  Only  the  grand  marble 
pedestal  remains.  Upon  it  stood  that  regal  chair,  —  a  throne 
of  solid  gold  and  gems,  —  four  feet  by  six,  and  on  its  curious 
canopy  two  full-sized  peacocks  strutted,  the  variant  colors  of 
their  gorgeous  plumes  made  up  of  costliest  precious  stones  of 
every  tint  and  shaiie,  the  like  of  which  the  world  had  never 
seen.  Alack-a-day  !  The  Persian  spoiler  came.  You  may  read 
how  he  came  with  mighty  hordes,  captured  the  city  and  the  fort, 
bore  away  the  costly  throne  that  experts  of  that  day  valued 
at  six  million  sterling  pounds,  stripped  off  the  silver  ceiling, 
wrenched  away  the  silver  doors  and  gates  and  screens,  tore 
down  the  gorgeous  golden  hangings,  dug  out  the  myriad  em- 
bedded gems,  looted  the  shops  and  palaces  and  mosques,  then 
marched  away  in  triumph  home.  You  may  see  this  self-same 
throne  to-day  in  the  Shah's  treasury,  at  Tehran.  The  wealth 
the  Shah  removed  that  day,  the  precious  metals  and  more  pre- 
cious gems,  loaded  a  thousand  carts  and  camels  :  four  hundred 
million  dollars'  worth  of  metals,  gems,  and  precious  bric-a-brac. 
Such  the  cool  irony  of  fate.  Such  the  result  of  wringing  all  the 
people's  wealth  to  pile  it  up  in  this  constrained  seclusion.  Such 
things  must  meet  tlieir  doom.  In  this  same  way  has  fallen  many 
a  treasure-gleaming  princely  palace.  So  fell  the  temple  of  the 
Jews  ;  so  fell  the  great  Ephesian  fane ;  the  poem  Parthenon ; 
the  Olympian  wonder  of  the  world ;  the  palaces  of  Rome. 
Built  in  pride  of  power,  built  in  defiance  of  the  masses'  rights. 


198  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

coined  out  of  subjects'  sweat  and  blood,  the  result  of  warrior 
rapacity,  —  who  shall  gainsay  God's  verdicts  on  these  ways  ? 

For  several  precious  days  we  loiter  here  among  these  things 
of  wonderland ;  stand  among  these  many  graceful  columns  of 
the  Hall  of  Judgment,  where  moguls  sat  among  their  nobles  and 
their  armed  satraps,  dispensing  edicts,  hearing  suppliants  for 
fair  adjudication  of  their  wrongs,  reports  of  officers  and  agents 
far  and  near.  At  the  rear  stands  now,  as  then,  the  grand  old 
marble  throne,  channelled  with  carving  and  rich  inlaid  work, 
canopied  with  thin  wrought  lucent  marbles  veined  with  gold 
and  flowers  in  all  the  art  of  princely  jewellers,  and  furnitured 
with  marble  div'an  chairs  carved  with  great  patience  from  solid 
blocks  of  precious  stone. 

But  it  is  of  little  use  to  try  to  put  on  paper  a  just  idea  of 
these  most  gorgeous  scenes.  They  must  be  seen  to  gain  a 
proper  estimate  of  what  they  truly  are.  Those  marble  screens 
alone  are  each  a  charming  study.  See  this  one  :  first  a  slab  of 
creamy  close-grained  Jeypore  marble,  say  six  feet  square  and 
two  inches  thick.  This  is  set  into  its  thicker  marble  framework, 
making  a  fair  panel  in  the  partition  wall  between  the  rooms  of 
court  and  harem  corridor,  between  the  mosque  and  the  ladies' 
promenade.  They  cannot  see  through  this  polished  slab,  and 
so  the  artist  comes  and  lays  it  off  in  beauteous  pattern,  —  lace 
work,  if  you  please.  Then  comes  the  patient  sculptor,  bores 
this  marble  through  and  through,  cuts  out  the  minute  spaces, 
files  and  rubs  and  polishes,  and,  when  finished,  behold  a  panel 
of  fine  lace,  figured  meshes,  vines,  and  leaves  and  flowers.  This 
marble  screening  is  one  of  the  quiet  glories  of  all  this  tomb  and 
mosque  and  palace  work.  No  other  artists  seem  to  have  gained 
for  it  such  filmy  perfection  ;  no  climate  could  be  more  tender 
of  its  meshed  and  fretted  fancies  :  this  at  Akbar's  tomb  and 
at  the  royal  palaces,  those  at  a  thousand  tombs  and  shiines, 
most  wonderful  of  all,  perhaps,  at  lovely  Taj  Mahal. 

Again  the  irony  of  fate.  This  noble  Shah  Jehan,  who  filled 
these  cities  with  these  lovely  things,  before  whom  all  peoples 
worship,  became  a  gray-haired  man.  His  countless  pleasures 
o'er,  his  loves  decayed,  his  faculties  declined,  he  became  a 
prisoner  of  an  ambitious  son  within  the  Agra  fortress.  Within 
the  fairy  screens  and  jewelled  rooms,  within  plain  sight  of  that 
marble  miracle,  the  lustrous  Taj  Mahal,  he  spent  in  theoretic 


INDIA.  199 

chains  the  poisoned  twilight  of  Iiis  many  days,  —  a  dim-eyed, 
sorrowing  prisoner.  One  day  the  last  hour  came,  as  come  it 
must  to  one  and  all.  His  servant  keepers,  granting  his  request, 
bore  liim  on  his  death-couch  from  the  golden  chamber  of  his 
long-dead  dearest  wife,  to  the  close-by  golden-domed  paviHon 
near  his  treasure-house,  from  which  his  glazing  eyes  might  view, 
as  the  last  object  he  should  see  on  earth,  the  grand-domed 
dream,  the  tomb  of  Taj  jMahal.  So  passed  the  builder  king  of 
Delhi,  —  noble  old  mogul,  whose  word  had  been  the  moving 
force  of  millions.  The  tomb  he  would  have  built  for  his  own 
sepulchre  —  twin  tomb  of  the  Taj,  with  silver  bridge  between 
the  two  across  the  Jumna  stream,  and  which  he  had  collected 
gold  to  build  —  was  only  but  begun.  Ambitious  sons  died 
struggling  for  their  father's  priceless  crown ;  and  Aurangzeb, 
the  last  one  left,  had  other  ways  to  use  this  wealth,  so  buried 
his  father  by  his  mother's  side,  beneath  the  glorious  echoing 
dome,  within  the  screen  of  marble  lace  that  gems  the  Taj 
Mahal. 

"Going  to  Jeypore,  I  suppose?" 

"  Don't  know,"  we  said.     "  What  can  one  see  there  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  so  very  much ;  but  Jeypore,  you  know,  is  one  of 
the  native  cities,  —  capital  of  a  native  province,  ruled  by  a  Maha- 
rajah, no  English  shops,  no  banks,  everything  native,  —  quite 
different  from  the  European  places  like  Calcutta,  Bombay,  and 
the  rest ;  rather  uncommon,  you  know." 

That  is  what  the  friendly  Britisher  said ;  and  as  the  native 
city  of  Jeypore  was  right  on  the  way  from  Delhi  to  Bombay,  it 
was  decided  to  stop  over  a  day  and  take  in  the  sights,  peer  into 
the  palaces  and  the  palace  gardens,  visit  the  bazaars  and  go  out 
to  the  dead-and-gone  city  of  Amber,  see  the  tombs,  temples, 
the  wild  beasts  and  curious  things,  said  to  be  seen  at  Jeypore, 
the  city  of  the  great  Jey  Singh,  "  lion  king,"  who  founded  it 
and  ruled  over  its  great  and  productive  province,  he  and  his 
descendants,  for  several  hundred  years. 

At  early  daybreak  the  stuffy  narrow-gauge  train  let  us  off  at  a 
well-built  station.  Being  in  the  city  of  a  native  prince,  it  first 
became  a  duty  to  announce  our  presence  and  beg  the  privilege 
of  viewing  his  kingly  stables,  his  princely  audience  halls,  his 
gardens  and  his  Amber  palace.     With  unexpected  promptness 


200  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  minion  of  his  highness  despatched  a  red-turbaned  messenger, 
granting  all  we  asked.  We  were  glad,  yet  almost  sorry  that  we 
had  not  asked  for  more.  The  ruling  princes  here  are  very 
good,  they  say,  and  very  glad  to  have  the  people  of  the  outer 
world  come  and  see  the  city  and  compare  it  with  other  cities  of 
this  Indian  land. 

The  stables  of  the  prince  cover  many  acres,  —  a  large  ten- 
acre  square,  perhaps,  with  rows  of  stables  on  three  sides,  with 
yards  for  colts,  and  exercising  grounds  for  the  whole  establish- 
ment.    The  prince  is  fond  of  horses,  one  would  think  ;  for  there 
are  three  hundred  of  them  there,  and  for  every  horse  a  groom, 
and  another  hundred  men  are  there  as  managers  and  helpers. 
The  horses  are  of  choicest  Asian  blood,  gathered  from  many 
provinces,  best  of  the  best,  various  in  build  and  color,  from  the 
finely  spotted  Arab  to  the  graceful-limbed  Deccan,  the  fleet- 
footed  Punjaub  mares,  and  the  blood  bay  English  troopers.     All 
were  very  fine,  but  all  too  warmly  clothed  in  double-quilted 
blankets,  too  much  blinded  and  hampered,  and  every  one  most 
ruinously  fat.     They  stood  upon  the  clean  dirt  in  rather  spa- 
cious stalls  with  very  few  partitions,  tethered  at  every  foot,  — 
some  of  the  more  restive  ones  twice  roped  and  fully  hooded. 
Around  the  fetlocks  are  leather  bands,  to  which  strong  cords 
are  fastened,  so  the  animal  can  neither  paw,  strike,  nor  kick. 
The  ropes  from  the  hinder  feet  pass  through  an  iron  ring  some 
four  feet  aft  his  heels,  then  run  back  about  a  rod  and  pass 
around  a  headed  stone  peg  or  post.     If,  in  spite  of  this,  the 
horse  will  surge  about,  two  other  lateral  ropes  some  four  feet 
long  keep  him  in  close  control ;  he  can  go  neither  forwards, 
backwards,  or  sidewise,  over  six  inches.     We  voted  it  right 
cowardly  thus  to  hamper  such  noble  animals ;  but  the  horses 
are  pampered,  and  the  attendants  cowardly.     The  animals  are 
fed  with  hay  in  the  stalls ;  but  their  richest  food  is  a  compound 
of  meal  mixed  with  butter  and  brown  sugar,  all  well  stirred  and 
moistened.     This  mess  no  horse  would  eat  voluntarily.     The 
groom  takes  him  away  to  the  feeding  station,  hampers  and,  if 
necessary,  blindfolds  him,  passes  a  cord  under  the  upper  lip 
and  back  over  the  crest  to  the  surcingle,  and  having  got  the 
noble  victim  thus  at  disadvantage,  proceeds  to  cram  the  crea- 
ture's mouth  with  balls  of  buttered  food.     The  entire  contents 
of  the  bright  brass  pan  are  taken  under  protest,  just  so  much 


INDIA.  201 

every  time.     A  flock  of  goats  is  kept  within  the  yard,  a  place 
where  doves  congregate  in  clouds. 

The  grooms  were  very  kind,  each  assuming  to  take  pleasure 
in  turning  up  the  heavy  wool-stuffed  blankets  to  display  their 
horses  ;  but  these  were  all  too  fat,  —  a  real  roly-poly  lot,  unused 
to  labor.  Several  are  kept  richly  saddled,  to  be  ready  on  a 
moment's  notice  from  the  prince,  who,  when  he  wants  a  mount, 
brooks  no  delay.  The  values  of  these  noble  steeds,  as  given  by 
the  interpreter,  were  rather  high,  we  thought;  none  save  the 
little  ponies  were  less  than  two  thousand  rupees,  and  many  were 
priced  at  five  thousand.  The  four  hundred  attendants  are 
paid  four  rupees  a  month,  about  ^i.6o,  and  board  themselves. 
Speaking  of  these  men's  wages,  we  might  as  well  digress  to 
mention  those  of  others.  Stone-cutters  —  sculptors,  if  you 
please  —  get  six  annas  per  day,  about  twenty-five  cents  ; 
masons,  sixteen  to  seventeen  cents ;  excavators,  six  to  seven ; 
carpenters,  seventeen ;  water-carriers,  eight ;  coolies,  or  com- 
mon laborers,  about  four  and  one  half  cents.  There  seems  to 
be  nothing  exorbitant  in  these  prices.  In  fact,  the  margin  of 
profit,  after  paying  expenses  of  living  and  raising  a  large  family, 
which  most  of  them  do,  would  not  seem  to  be  burdensome. 
Yet  we  heard  of  no  strikes  or  trades  unions  even.  Food  is 
cheap  and  abundant ;  and  as  to  clothing,  we  have  seen  no  native 
people  better  dressed. 

The  palace  powers  were  very  kind.  We  could  visit  the  pal- 
aces and  gardens,  the  royal  billiard  halls,  fine-arts  rooms  and 
lapidary  works,  look  through  the  colleges  and  courts,  the  tombs 
and  temples,  to  our  hearts'  content ;  and,  more  than  this,  one 
of  the  rajah's  largest  elephants,  fully  caparisoned  and  attended, 
had  already  been  placed  at  our  disposal  to  ride  about  that  day, 
—  an  enormous  hulk,  with  jewelled  tusks  and  gayly  frescoed 
head  and  trunk  and  ears.  His  broad  back  was  covered  with  a 
spacious  saddle,  made  to  accommodate  four,  the  driver  sitting 
outside  just  above  the  monster's  ears.  As  he  knelt  to  receive 
us,  we  scrambled  up  a  six-foot  ladder  and  got  ourselves  in  place, 
held  tightly  on  as  he  gained  his  feet,  then  looked  down.  Such 
a  monster  !  The  rajah  has  a  stable  of  seventy-five  of  this  sort, 
big  and  little,  but  probably  had  somehow  learned  our  size  and 
sent  his  biggest.  He  was  twelve  feet  high  at  least ;  and  when  he 
settled  to  his  gait  it  seemed  as  if  the  very  earth  were  moving 


202  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

under  us.  The  trappings  were  in  red  ;  a  gayly  dressed  driver 
and  two  red-turbaned  attendants  on  foot  made  up  the  service. 
An  hour  of  easy  swaying  motion  brought  us  past  the  artificial 
lake,  with  its  royal  hanging  gardens  ;  past  the  ancient  walls  and 
temples ;  past  noble  trees  and  many  a  dome  and  shrine ;  past 
the  elephant  pens  and  ruined  keep  and  outer  walls  and  gates  ; 
through  the  great  entrance  gate  within  the  court  of  that  vast 
fortress  palace,  with  ramparts,  glittering  domes,  and  frowning 
walls  and  towers,  amid  the  half-barbaric  splendor  long  almost 
unused,  a  noble  relic  of  the  ancient  days,  of  centuries  long  since 
gone,  the  stronghold  of  a  race  of  powerful  Hindu  kings,  —  the 
palace  of  Amber. 

Dismounting  beneath  an  aged  sycamore,  we  ascended  by  a 
very  broad  and  easy  ramp,  and  stood  within  the  vast  marble 
audience  hall  columned  and  corniced  with  most  elaborate  stone 
carvings,  roofed  with  well-cut  slabs  of  massive  freestone.  Here 
upon  the  marble  floor,  overlooking  the  spacious  court  once 
bustling  with  life,  —  the  scene  of  many  a  royal  tilt  and  elephant 
or  tiger  fight,  here  where  mogul,  nabob,  shah,  and  prince  and 
noble  courts  had  met  and  talked  for  peace  or  plotted  war,  —  we 
poor  hungry  mortals  spread  and  ate  our  frugal  lunch ;  ate 
cold  bread  and  meats,  and  drank  German  beer  and  burned 
cheroots,  where  great  Jey  Singh  had  stood  amidst  his  crouching 
courtiers. 

Then  we  wandered  —  upstairs,  downstairs  —  through  gor- 
geous marble  corridors  and  halls ;  through  sumptuous  bathing- 
rooms  and  deep  cool  palace  caverns  where  in  hottest  days 
kings  and  queens  might  well  defy  the  sun ;  about  the  noble 
ramparts  and  pavilion  outlooks  ;  down  through  the  harem 
courts  and  halls  and  cells,  where  Jey  Singh  ruled  supreme 
among  his  forty-score  of  carefully  chosen  wives  and  women  ; 
into  the  holy  temple,  upon  whose  richly  matted  altar  floor  no 
foreigner  may  step ;  before  whose  altar  every  day,  in  times  of 
yore,  a  human  being  yielded  up  his  life,  but  now  a  goat  suffices. 
Then  we  rode  away. 

Palace  of  Jey  Singh,  great  Hindu  prince,  palace  and  city  long 
years  ago  forsaken  !  Why  so  ?  The  priests  did  it.  They  told 
the  king  that  it  was  set  down  in  their  books  of  pious  lore  that 
should  a  capital  city  be  peopled  over  a  thousand  years  disaster 
would  surely  follow.     Believing  what  his  preachers  said,  —  and 


INDIA.  203 

what 's  the  good  of  having  a  minister  unless  you  heed  his  state- 
ments?—  Jey  Singh  laid  out  Jeypore,  walled  it,  built  it  up.  moved 
into  it,  —  moved  here  his  myriad  wives  and  men  of  war,  leav- 
ing Amber  and  all  its  palaces  and  courts,  its  temples,  hanging 
gardens,  fountains,  tanks,  and  streets,  to  dusty  desolation. 

The  single  day  we  had  set  apart  to  see  this  city  in  was  not 
enough  by  half;  so  we  took  another.  A  week  would  be  too 
short  to  see  Jeypore  and  get  it  well  in  mind,  —  to  see  the 
schools,  the  old  ways  of  doing  things,  the  adaptation  of  new 
features,  struggling  for  improvements ;  the  old  and  new  ways 
blended,  ox-carts  and  ox-carriages  alongside  bretts  and  victo- 
rias ;  turbans  and  robes  gradually  giving  way  to  hats  and 
trousers ;  women  grinding  at  the  mill  within  sight  of  a  flour- 
mill  smoke-stack. 

Bombay  !  The  name  means  "  good  harbor."  Perhaps  it  is. 
Its  docks  are  splendid.  Two  days  of  February  gone ;  we  sail 
away  next  week.  You  would  hardly  think  of  coming  here  for 
good  living  or  amusements,  certainly  not  for  matters  of  extraor- 
dinary interest.  It  is  a  large  and  thrifty  seaport ;  has  a  very 
fair  harbor,  spacious  bund,  and  a  goodly  number  of  very  fine 
public  buildings.  These  latter  have  grown  up  during  the  last 
thirty  years,  and  largely  upon  the  commercial  impetus  achieved 
durin?  the  civil  war  in  America.  In  those  dark  davs  of  our 
history  the  cotton  industry  of  India  made  great  strides.  Prices 
advanced  ;  the  acreage  was  largely  multiplied.  Bombay  was  the 
chief  market :  the  rapidly  increasing  demand,  even  for  a  very 
inferior  article,  rolled  a  vast  tide  of  unexpected  wealth  upon  this 
population  ;  speculation  took  root ;  vast  investments  were  made 
in  lands  and  buildings,  and  all  Bombay  was  on  a  rampant  boom. 
Short  the  duration,  however ;  and  no  darker  day  has  Bombay 
ever  seen  than  that  which  closed  the  bloody  strife  and  set  the 
cotton  States  again  to  work.  But  though  the  cotton  business 
suddenly  fell  off,  the  city  got  a  start  in  ways  of  enterprise  that 
has  given  it  advantage  and  made  it  the  best-built  town  of  India. 
Unlike  Calcutta,  it  has  no  end  of  fine  building  material.  Bom- 
bay luxuriates  in  stone  ;  Calcutta  glorifies  herself  with  brick  and 
mortar  plastered  over  with  yellow-tinted  stucco,  giving  a  warmth 
of  color  without  a  sense  of  much  stability. 

Bombay  has  many  railroads  leading  out   in   all    directions, 


204  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

centring  much  trade.  The  streets  are  sewered,  street-cars  run 
here  and  there,  and  there  are  some  handsome,  well-kept  market- 
places, delightful  drives,  and  clubs ;  but  in  the  matter  of  hotels, 
the  less  said  the  better.  You  might  expect  to  find  at  least  some 
fair  second-class  hotels  in  a  place  of  such  size  and  pretension  ; 
but  there  are  none  even  of  that  class.  Some  of  the  hotel  build- 
ings are  good  enough,  but  they  are  dirty,  frowzy,  ill-kept  dens. 
It  is  said  that  poor  cooks  are  a  special  invention  of  the  Devil, 
for  his  own  purposes.  If  this  be  true,  he  must  have  planned  a 
rare  harvest  in  Bombay ;  for  in  naost  respects  you  will  find  here 
the  worst-cooked  food  in  all  the  circle  round  the  earth  where 
there  is  any  pretension  to  hotel-keeping.  In  this  respect,  all 
India  is  bad  enough ;  but  somehow  Bombay  tries  to  earn  a 
reputation  for  being  worst  of  all,  and  notably  succeeds.  These 
Indian  louts  have  neither  taste  nor  education  for  hotel-keeping. 
Dirt  is  their  normal  condition  ;  and  as  to  preparing  other  food 
than  Indian  curry,  they  are  most  unfit. 

These  Indian  and  Indo-European  hotels  are  curiosities.  You 
arrive  at  a  city,  —  Bombay,  or  where  else  you  please.  The  plat- 
form coolies  gather  up  your  baggage  and  place  it  on  a  hack. 
These  must  be  paid  five  cents,  or  ten,  it  does  n't  matter  which  ; 
no  sum  will  keep  them  from  asking  something  more.  You  drive 
away,  and  arrive  at  your  hotel ;  another  lot  of  coolies  will  take 
your  luggage  off  the  cab,  and  these  also  must  be  paid.  You  get 
your  room  ;  another  lot  of  coolies  bring  your  baggage  up,  and 
wait  for  pay.  So  every  time  your  baggage  moves,  going  or 
coming,  there  is  a  fee  to  settle.  The  hotel  takes  no  charge  of 
anything  but  to  furnish  poor  food  and  make  out  bills  ;  does  n't 
even  furnish  you  a  blanket,  quilt,  or  room  attendant,  if  they  can 
get  you  to  furnish  such  yourself.  A  room,  —  a  dirty,  gusty, 
dusty,  unkept  room ;  a  bedstead,  a  sort  of  mattress,  and  a  mos- 
quito-bar, one  sheet,  sometimes  one  limpsy  pillow,  —  that  is 
all.  The  furniture  is  bad,  the  carpets  dirty ;  the  doors,  the  fur- 
niture, and  everything  in  sight,  unused  to  water,  brush,  or  soap. 
Dirty  towels  are  not  changed,  but  hung  up  to  dry  for  you  to 
use  again ;  baths  are  vile  with  dirt  and  smells,  and  nothing 
speaks  of  care  or  cleanliness  or  comfort.  Such  we  found  the 
much-known  Bombay  hotel,  the  Esplanade,  and  this  is  no  ex- 
ception to  the  general  run ;  some  may  be  better  than  others, 
generally  worse. 


INDIA.  205 

There  are  some  few  things  in  and  about  Bombay  worth  seeing, 
—  enough  for  a  day  or  two,  —  Caves  of  Elephanta,  done  by  half- 
past  ten ;  the  drive  to  Malabar  Hill,  to  see  the  Towers  of 
Silence,  that 's  two  hours  more  ;  then  coming  back  you  look  in 
upon  the  museum,  if  you  want  to  waste  an  hour  there ;  an  hour 
more  at  the  Animal  Hospital,  or  infirmary  for  cows  and  cats.  The 
first  two  and  the  last  are  rather  queer.  The  Caves  of  Elephanta 
are  on  an  island  a  few  miles  out,  to  get  to  which  the  hotel  sends 
its  launch,  at  an  exorbitant  rate.  It  is  called  Elephanta,  because 
a  sculptured  elephant,  long  since  gone,  was  once  stationed  there. 
A  large  cave  cut  out  of  the  black  lava  rock,  leaving  massive  col- 
umns to  support  the  mountain  roof,  covers  an  area  of  several 
thousand  square  feet,  and  is  approached  from  the  sea  by  a  long 
stretch  of  inwalled  walk  and  steps.  Beneath  the  black  and 
beetling  brow  of  the  unlettered  portico  you  come  within  the 
sombre  scene.  The  quaintly  fashioned  columns  and  their  queer- 
shaped  capitals  attract  your  close  attention.  Some  of  them  have 
crumbled  away,  leaving  only  the  puffed  and  fluted  capitals  hang- 
ing to  the  blackened  roof  Round  about  within  the  panels  of 
the  walls,  wrought  out  in  high  relief,  are  sculptured  figures,  large 
and  small,  of  Brahma,  Vishnu,  Siva,  or  Mahadeva  ;  the  slaughter 
of  the  innocents ;  and  in  three  side  chapels  are  the  emblems  of 
Phallic  worship,  which  is  not  yet  obsolete  among  these  Eastern 
people. 

The  principal  figure  in  the  cave  is  that  opposite  the  portal,  — 
a  triple-headed  idol,  a  bust  some  twenty  feet  in  height.  The 
faces  are  rather  well  executed  and  well  worth  careful  study,  — 
fine  faces,  mild  and  loving,  you  might  say,  or  meditating  on  the 
lives  and  fates  of  all  earth's  children,  —  thinking  in  stone  of 
Whence  and  Why  and  Whither.  The  figures  all  are  rude  but 
fairly  posed.  Here  you  see  Parvatee,  the  beauteous  wife  of 
Siva,  leaning  on  his  arm  ;  here  a  towering,  single-breasted  god- 
dess gazing  out  beyond  into  the  open  world,  once  worshipped 
as  some  Amazon ;  and  all  about  are  hints  of  pagan  art  and  bits 
of  curious  carving  that  once  had  meaning  in  the  other,  older 
days  of  mystic  Phallic  worship.  How  old  this  patiently  wrought- 
out  cavern,  with  its  fifteen  thousand  square  feet  of  floor  space, 
with  its  water  chapel  and  its  mystic  shrines,  may  be,  no  one  can 
tell.  India  has  many  such,  and  so  have  Egypt,  Persia,  Pales- 
tine, —  great  temples,  tombs,  and  shrines  hewn  from  the  living 


206  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

mountain,  the  space  cleared  out,  leaving  the  columns,  carvings, 
halls,  and  roofs  and  walls  a  mass  of  never-moved  stone  most 
curious  to  see,  each  one  the  growth  of  some  religious  thought, 
something  connected  with  this  short  life  here  on  earth  and 
that  eternity  of  life  that  stretches  out  beyond.  Each  creed  and 
sect  and  schism  has  bridged  this  space  that  intervenes  between 
the  last-drawn  human  breath  and  the  first  breath  drawn  beyond, 
and  pointed  out  the  way  and  told  the  steps,  the  staff  and  shoon 
and  fee  ;  yet  down  these  bridges  crash,  or  come  into  disuse, 
while  new  ones  rise  upon  the  old  ones'  piers  to  help  across  a 
groping,  restless  world. 

The  Towers  of  Silence  are  on  IMalabar  Hill,  —  a  lovely  range 
of  bluffs  that  overlook  the  town  and  sea.  These  are  the  Parsee 
towers,  their  funereal  ground,  their  walled  and  vulture-guarded 
cemetery.  The  Parsee  is  the  ancient  Persian,  a  most  valiant 
people  in  King  Cyrus's  time.  But  from  Arabia  came  that  fierce 
Moslem  force,  half-savage  men  of  war,  fanatics  in  religion,  a 
Bible  in  one  hand  and  a  bloody  sword  in  the  other,  forcing  their 
creed  upon  the  world.  The  Persian  had  his  own  faith,  as  you 
have  yours  ;  and  he  held  it  sacred.  The  conqueror  came  ;  pure 
men  died  rather  than  flee  or  change  their  faith  ;  some  fled,  —  and 
such  are  the  Parsees  of  the  East,  with  Bombay  their  chiefest 
home.  Now,  as  of  old,  they  neither  burn  nor  bury  their  dead  : 
to  burn  would  pollute  the  fire  and  air  ;  to  bury  pollutes  the  earth  ; 
but  as  a  loved  one  dies  its  corse  is  brought  in  fair  white-robed 
procession,  parts  of  the  Ahurian  hymn  are  chanted  to  combat 
the  power  of  death  which  has  come  from  hell  to  seize  the  corpse 
and  threaten  the  living.  The  prayers  are  said  and  the  Avesta 
texts  before  the  sacred  fires  of  sandal-wood  ;  the  mourners  turn 
away,  as  on  an  iron  bier  the  dead  is  borne  away  unto  the  dakhma, 
"  tower  of  silence."  Once  within  the  wall  they  put  it  in  its  place, 
and  all  retire  but  one.  Then  with  averted  face  he  pulls  away 
the  last  and  only  ceremental  cloth  that  hid  the  lifeless  form,  and 
quickly  passes  out  and  shuts  the  door.  The  tower  is  a  circular 
wall  of  ninety  feet  diameter  and  thirty  feet  high.  Upon  the 
curb  of  this  surrounding  wall  sit  scores  of  sharp-beaked,  tawny- 
feathered  vultures.  As  the  last  attendant  flees  and  leaves  the 
dead  behind,  naked  as  it  came  into  the  world,  down  swoop 
these  waiting  birds  of  prey.  In  two  short  hours  the  corse  is 
only  bones.     The  birds  have  flown  away  ;  the  bones  are  left  to 


INDIA.  207 

dry  and  whiten  in  the  sun  and  air,  and  then  in  time  are  raked 
into  a  deep  and  spacious  pit,  there  left  forevermore.  Pure 
water  trickles  over  them,  then  passes  through  thick  charcoal 
beds,  and  so  is  pure  again.  So  is  their  religion  carried  out,  — 
dust  given  back  to  dust,  and  neither  earth  nor  water,  fire  nor 
air,  befouled. 

Close  by  is  a  beauteous  garden,  a  belvedere  and  chapel.  A 
model  of  the  tower  is  shown  within  the  garden  wall,  but  within 
the  temple  chapel  the  sacred  fire  burns  and  goes  not  out ;  but 
this  you  must  not  look  upon,  for,  like  unto  the  tower-enclosed 
space,  it  is  most  holy  gi-ound.  The  attendant  priest,  with 
whitened  hair  and  flowing  Parsee  robes  and  staff  in  hand,  con- 
ducts the  visitors  around,  tells  them  how  near  (some  eiglity  feet) 
they  may  approach  the  several  towers,  conducts  them  to  the 
belvedere,  shows  the  model,  takes  their  names,  then  kindly 
passes  briglit  bouquets  of  charming  flowers,  and  waves  forth  his 
kind  adieu. 

This  is  the  way  the  Parsee  lays  away  his  dead.  Do  those 
who  burn  their  friends  upon  the  funeral  pyre,  or  bury  them 
within  the  ground  to  be  the  food  of  crawling  worms,  do  better? 
All  peoples  have  their  ways  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  they 
who  question  others'  funeral  rites  only  waste  their  time.  Yours 
is  a  religious  rite  ?  Of  course ;  but  so  is  theirs.  How  came 
they  by  this  rite,  and  you,  my  friend,  by  yours  ?  Go,  ask  your 
education. 

You  have  cattle,  sheep,  and  goats,  cats  and  dogs  and  fowls. 
When  your  cattle  get  their  legs  broken,  feet  frosted,  get  old, 
lame,  and  decrepit,  what  do  you  do  with  them  ?  Oh,  you  fatten 
them  and  eat  them,  or  send  them  to  the  soap-man.  If  your 
faithful  dog  gets  past  his  days  of  use,  or  helplessly  hurt,  you  repay 
his  long  service  with  a  fatal  blow  or  bullet,  or  get  some  one  else 
to  do  it.  So  too  with  all  your  animals,  your  pets  about  the 
house  or  place  ;  so  soon  as  old  age  or  misfortune  overtakes 
them,  you  eat  them  if  you  may,  or  get  them  murdered.  It  is 
not  so  everywhere.  These  Bombay  people  have  a  hospital  for 
such,  and  take  great  care  of  these  unfortunates.  Suppose  we 
go  and  see  it.  In  the  midst  of  the  native  quarter  we  stop  within 
an  outer  yard  where  men  are  handling  bales  of  grass  and  piles 
of  beets  and  other  roots.  A  guide  appears  and  takes  us  through 
a  gate  within  a  large  five-acre  yard  all  built  about  with  pens  and 


208  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Stables,  stalls  and  coops,  for  birds,  cattle,  sheep,  goats,  fowls,  cats, 
dogs,  —  swarms  of  animal  life  sent  here  for  kindly  treatment, 
nurture,  and  good  care.  There  are  cattle  with  no  feet,  some  with 
three  legs,  with  great  dislocations,  blind,  withered  of  limb,  dis- 
torted joints  and  spine  ;  cattle  and  sheep  and  goats  all  being 
cared  for,  cleaned  and  fed  abundandy,  and  looking  mildly  grate- 
ful as  you  watch  them  at  their  evening  meal.  The  cats  and 
ducks  and  chicks  were  jolly  and  most  quietly  content,  —  all  ex- 
cept the  dogs  ;  they  barked  and  snarled.  But  it  was  a  touching 
scene ;  for  many  of  these  mild-eyed  cows  seemed  full  of  real 
gratitude,  and  petting  them  they  kindly  licked  my  hand  as  if  in 
hearty  thanks. 

Who  has  done  all  this  ?  Well,  he  was  a  heathen,  and  he  is 
dead.  But  he  had  a  lot  of  money  and  could  n't  take  it  with 
him,  and  had  a  great  big  human  heart  that  overflowed  with  kind- 
ness to  men  and  good-will  to  suffering  brutes  ;  and  he  left  his 
bonds  and  cash  and  all  he  had  to  found  a  home  for  poor  and 
needy  kine  and  cats  and  other  animals ;  and  here  they  live  and 
have  their  food  and  care,  with  no  cross  word  or  blow,  till  nat- 
ural death  comes  round  to  take  them.  What  have  you  to  say 
about  this  awful  heathen  man  and  his  bequest? 

The  Spartan  people,  so  we  read,  destroyed  all  maimed  and 
aged  ones  as  cumberers  of  the  state,  drowning  them  in  the 
Eurotas.  We  treat  our  brutes  as  they  treated  their  brethren. 
They  developed  a  race  of  mighty  men  that  made  the  noblest 
armies  tremble ;  but  they  are  gone,  and  none  do  them  hom- 
age. The  kind  old  Parsee  looked  the  other  way,  and  now, 
among  his  people,  and  the  dumb,  decrepit  ones,  if  they  could 
but  speak,  he  is  canonized  a  saint. 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  2O9 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

ARABIA   AND   EGYPT. 

Again  at  Sea.  —  Aboard  an  Indo-European  Grain  Vessel.  —  The  Indian 
Wlieat  Question.  —  A  Warning  to  American  Farmers.  —  Across  the 
Arabian  Ocean.  —  Up  the  Red  Sea.  — Visions  of  Araby  the  Curst  — 
A  Great  Nation  and  its  Downfall.  —  Red  Sea  Memories.  — Mount 
Sinai  and  its  Monasteries.  — The  Gulf  and  City  of  Suez.— Alexandria, 
a  City  of  Romantic  History.  — Cairo.  — The  Mingling  of  West  and 
East. 

WE  left  Bombay  the  eighth  day  of  this  second  month,  and 
now  we  plough  the  far-off  Aden  Sea  in  this  Clan  Line 
"  cotton  boat,"  "  Clan  Ogilvie."  It  is  the  eleventh  ocean  steamer 
of  the  tour.  We  count  it  fair  to  try  them  all, — the  States, 
Japan,  and  Chinese  ships,  the  merchantmen  and  "  opium 
boats,"  the  French  and  English  mails,  and  now  a  regular  long 
sea-voyage  freighter.  It  is  like  taking  different  classes  on  the 
foreign  trains,  to  see  how  things  are  run  and  done  and  what 
the  world 's  a-doing.  These  passenger  mail-boats  are  about 
the  same,  —  spacious,  not  always  over-crowded,  with  much  of 
form  in  hours  and  dress  and  table  service,  lighting  up  and 
putting  out  of  lamps.  There  are  special  morning  hours  for 
getting  into  line  of  dress  parade,  and  special  places  for  your 
incense-burning  hours,  and  for  reading,  walking,  general  "  swap- 
ping lies,"  and  gossip ;  and  when  you  've  made  the  rounds, 
spun  your  usual  yarns,  and  got  the  run  of  the  bill  of  fare, 
then,  if  the  voyage  holds  out  much  longer,  you  get  rather 
tired  of  it.  So  here  and  there,  as  chances  come,  we  skip 
the  standard  way  of  doing  it,  ship  on  some  good,  clean  mer- 
chantman, and  have  things  more  to  ourselves ;  have  time  to 
read  and  write  and  sing  and  whistle ;  go  mousing  round  the 
ship,  smoking  where  and  when  we  please,  wearing  slippers 
or  shoes,  turning  in  when  we  get  sleepy  and  turning  out  when 
we  feel  like  it ;  dressing  when  we  get  ready  ;  and  with  sheep  and 
poultry  on  the  deck,  and  cats  and  dogs  about,  and  plenty  of 

14 


2IO  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

good  things  to  eat,  —  it's  real,  solid  comfort.  Tliis  voyage 
of  twelve  or  thirteen  days  might  be  made  a  day  or  two  quicker 
at  twice  the  price,  in  cramped-up  rooms,  thick  as  boxed  sar- 
dines ;  but  this  is  better.  Our  cabins  are  large  and  clean  and 
airy  ;  the  ofificers  pleasant ;  the  cuisine  excellent.  We  sit  and 
read  and  write  or  play  at  games,  and  take  our  rest  right 
royally. 

Just  now  our  ship  is  in  the  Babelmandeb  Straits,  —  a  rather 
narrow  passage,  walled  with  blistered  mountains,  studded  with 
steep  and  sunken  rocks  and  coral  reefs,  teethed  with  barren 
threatening  capes,  and  spitted  here  and  there  with  sand.  There 
are  no  trees,  no  shrubs,  no  genial  turf  or  kindly  foliage  in  sight ; 
all  is  seared  and  burned  with  the  unrelenting  sun.  To-day 
we  have  a  kindly  breeze,  thermometer  at  eighty ;  we  sit  upon 
the  deck  beneath  a  single  awning,  with  ordinary  summer  cloth- 
ing, and  find  no  discomfort.  Last  night  was  full  of  rest  inside 
the  sheets ;  and  after  to-day  we  make  such  rapid  northing  there 
will  be  no  more  sign  or  talk  of  sultry  weather. 

Our  ship  is  laden  with  wheat.  The  wheat  question  is  a 
growing  one  in  British  India,  and  our  American  farmers  and 
business  men  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact.  The  Indiaman 
does  n't  eat  much  wheat  himself,  but  he  is  very  glad  to  raise 
it,  since  it  brings  him  ready  money.  The  soil  is  very  fine 
for  wheat,  the  climate  excellent ;  and  as  for  labor,  why,  the 
wage  of  twenty-five  farm  coolies  here  is  not  in  excess  of  that 
of  one  good  farm  hand  in  the  States.  More  than  this,  on  his 
four  or  five  annas  a  day  he  not  only  works  but  boards  himself, 
—  five  cents  a  day  and  find  his  own  bed  and  board  !  Talk 
about  Chinese  cheap  labor :  a  Chinaman  can  get  pretty  low 
down  on  the  scale  of  cheap  living,  but  these  Indian  coolies  will 
so  far  discount  his  wages  that  the  pigtailed  fellow  can't  get  a 
foothold  here. 

And  this,  my  American  farmer  friend,  this  is  one  of  the  con- 
ditions you  have  now  in  some  measure  to  contend  with,  and  will 
have  to  contend  with  more  and  more.  For  the  wheat  resources 
of  this  India  country  are  enormous.  The  wheat  raised  here  is  ex- 
cellent. It  goes  into  Europe  in  competition  with  the  very  best  of 
California  wheat,  and  I  am  told  it  is  vastly  preferable  to  American 
spring  wheat.  It  competes  favorably  with  the  best  Italian  maca- 
roni wheats,  and  makes  the  best  of  bread.      More  than  all  this, 


ARABIA    AXD  EGYPT.  211 

India  is  not  so  far  from  the  bread-markets  of  Europe  as  Cali- 
fornia or  Dakota.  Twenty-eight  days'  sea-voyage  places  Indian 
wheat  in  Liverpool,  eighteen  in  soutliern  Europe.  England  is 
interested  in  encouraging  the  farming  business  of  India ;  and 
aside  from  all  that,  England  and  the  world  of  bread-consumers 
at  large  take  a  very  lively  interest  in  buying  wheat  or  any 
other  stuff  where  they  can  get  it  the  cheapest.  With  this  in- 
crease of  Indian  wheat,  we  need  expect  no  more  wheat  booms 
in  the  States.  These  are  things  that  should  be  known  and 
understood  by  American  farmers,  so  that  they  may  not  too 
much  set  their  hearts  upon  wheat  crops ;  for  with  their  expen- 
sive ways  of  farming  there  is  little  chance  for  export  competi- 
tion with  the  four-cent  Indian  coolie,  —  the  same  fellow  that, 
it  seems  to  me,  is  to-day  doing  more  to  clog  the  wheels  of 
industry  in  American  agricultural  districts  than  is  the  Chinaman. 

Straight  away  across  the  Arabian  Ocean  for  seven  days,  and 
we  pass  the  Babelmandeb  Straits  between  the  isles  of  igneous 
rocks,  and  enter  the  long  Red  Sea.  Bab-el-mandeb  means 
"  The  Gate  of  Tears,"  since  at  this  narrow  opening  many  a 
goodly  craft  has  sunk,  and  many  thousands  of  men  have  left 
their  bones  at  the  foundations  of  this  treacherous  portal ;  for  it 
has  been  the  track  of  ships  ever  since  ships  went  forth  to  sea. 

Just  why  this  present  sea  is  labelled  "  Red  "  remains  an 
open  question.  The  Blue  Sea  is  blue,  the  Yellow  Sea  is  yellow 
with  alluvial  mud ;  the  Adriatic  comes  from  adria,  meaning 
"  black ;  "  the  Black  Sea  got  its  name,  not  from  its  color,  but 
from  the  deep,  dark  forests  that  in  very  early  times  surrounded 
it ;  the  Sea  of  Marniora  was  named  from  its  marble  ;  and  thus 
these  names  of  seas  have  cogent  meanings,  all  but  this  Red  Sea. 
A  German  delver  in  Egyptian  lore  declares  the  name  misspelled, 
—  that  it  should  be  Reed  Sea,  by  reason  of  the  vast  reedy  swamps 
that  once  occupied  most  of  the  space  between  its  head  and  the 
Mediterranean.  But  as  he  goes  on  to  show  that  it  was  through 
these  reeds,  and  not  through  the  watery  depths  of  the  real  sea, 
that  Moses  led  his  people  forth  from  Egypt,  those  Orthodox 
brethren  who  would  sooner  lose  an  eye  than  give  up  a  miracle 
denounce  the  German's  theory  as  a  sceptic  fraud.  However, 
the  Red  Sea,  which  it  certainly  is  not,  or  Reed  Sea,  which 
it  may  not  be,  is  a  most  dismal  bit  of  water.     So  long  as  you 


212  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

see  land,  the  land  is  bleak  and  desolate.  The  islands  of  the 
Babelmandeb  Straits,  and  the  rocky  shores  along  the  entire 
length  of  the  straits,  bear  nothing  green.  No  hardy  patch  of 
moss  or  wire-grass,  no  sterile  leaf,  no  tender  root  or  branch 
has  footing  on  these  coasts.  Flora  is  dead  ;  the  rocks  are  black 
with  everlasting  heat ;  the  blasting  simoon  breath  enwraps  these 
lands  in  death.  And  not  alone  the  shores,  but  on  the  right, 
beyond  the  Arabian  mountain-chain,  and  on  the  left,  across  the 
Libyan  sands,  are  great  arid  spaces  that  permit  no  breath  of 
floral  life.  And  yet  within  that  strip  of  emerald  setting  a  little 
distance  on,  watered  by  the  Nile,  you  find  the  fattest  farming 
soil  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Thus  do  extremes  nestle  closely 
together ;  even  heaven  and  hell  are  parted  by  a  narrow  gulf 
across  which  saint  and  sinner  may  hold  speech. 

We  now  are  straight  off  Mecca,  where  countless  pious  pil- 
grims crowd  round  Mahomet's  tomb  to  kiss  the  Kaaba  and  thus 
gain  pious  strength.  Just  how  it  comes  you  may  not  know  \ 
but  then  you  are  not  Moslems. 

Despised  country  this  Arabia  (the  word  is  ercb,  "the 
west"),  ignorant,  bigoted,  steeped  in  dirt  and  darkness. 
Yet  wait.  Try  and  remember  something  good  of  her.  Come 
down  to  facts.  Arabia  gave  us  alcohol ;  and  as  nine  hundred 
million  dollars'  worth  of  it  is  consumed  in  the  United  States  in 
one  form  and  another  every  year,  —  more  in  money  value  than 
all  our  bread  and  meat  and  schools,  —  surely  there  must  be 
some  sense  of  obligation  among  us  towards  Arabia.  She  gave 
us  our  numerals,  —  our  i,  2,  3,  4,  —  the  figures  that  the  entire 
commercial  world  now  use.  That  is  about  as  great  a  gift  as  any 
people  ever  gave  the  world  of  literature  and  trade.  She  gave 
the  world  algebra  and  chemistry  and  much  astronomy.  Her 
scholars  of  yore  combined  astronomy  with  mathematics,  making 
the  heavenly  computations  easy.  She  gave  us,  too,  the  almanac, 
—  a  book  that  the  farming  world  has  consulted  more  than  it  has 
the  Bible,  and  is  likely  to  continue  doing  so.  She  gave  us  much 
of  medicine,  —  of  medicinal  botany  ;  and  the  works  of  Arabian 
scholars  upon  surgery,  long  centuries  ago,  have  shed  bright  rays 
of  light  upon  a  suffering  world.  Even  while  Christendom  held  to 
miraculous  cures  of  disease  by  faith  in  Christ, — cures  by  touch  of 
saintly  relics,  cures  by  holy  oils  and  thrice-blessed  waters,  —  the 
Arab  professor  in  his  cell  or  university  was  evolving  the  curative 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  213 

virtues  of  the  floral  kingdom,  and  teaching  how  rightly  to  wield 
the  surgeon's  searching  blade.  While  our  forefathers  were  mend- 
ing broken  arms  and  legs  by  a  touch  of  Saint  Oswald's  cross ; 
while  the  stone  virgin  of  Saragossa  was  benignly  busy  in  restor- 
ing amputated  feet  and  hands ;  while  bishops  and  priests  and 
saintly  frauds  were  throwing  dust  into  the  suffering  people's 
eyes  and  damming  up  the  puny  rivulets  of  human  knowledge, 
—  the  great  Arabic  Cordovan  school  was  boldly  battling  back  the 
waves  of  superstition,  eager  to  help  in  reason's  way  to  stanch 
the  tide  of  pain ;  doing  her  work  despite  dogmatic  threats. 
Though  branded  as  heretic,  a  goodly  number  of  English  schol- 
ars were  sent  to  drink  at  this  Cordovan  fountain,  bringing  back 
their  mental  gains  to  take  root  and  bloom  to  a  never-ending 
harvest. 

But  if  alcohol  and  almanacs  came  from  Arabia,  so  did  our 
coffee.  The  very  name  is  Arabic,  —  ka/iwa/i,  corrupted  into 
"  coffee."  It  came  first  into  the  outer  world  from  Mokka,  a 
now  almost  defunct  port  we  passed  a  clay  or  two  ago.  And  to 
this  time  your  bon  vivant  will  tell  you  that  of  all  the  coffees 
known  to  trade  the  Mokka  (Mocha)  is  the  best.  Some  day,  if 
you  will  come  with  me  to  an  old  Caireme  Arab  coffee-room,  you 
shall  taste  such  a  cup  as  you  have  never  tasted  before.  The 
small  fair  kernels  shall  be  counted  out  and  roasted  before  your 
eyes.  The  richly  browned  beans  shall  be  reduced  to  floury 
powder  while  you  look  on  ;  then  the  beverage  shall  be  gently 
brewed  and  sugared,  and  handed  you  within  a  tiny  cup  upon  a 
'=A\'QxJingan,  and  you  may  eat  it  even  while  great  Allah's  bless- 
ing rests  upon  its  deeply  soothing,  aromatic  wave.  Eat  it  !  You 
do  not  drink  this  most  delightful  food.  They  pound  it  to 
fine  dust  that  you  may  taste  the  coffee's  most  inherent  flavor 
in  its  very  grounds.  There  is  an  inner  art  in  making  coffee, 
that  you  must  come  far  East  to  learn. 

And  more  than  all  this,  the  Arabians  made  books  ;  and  they 
made  paper  out  of  cotton,  and  introduced  it  into  Europe. 
Their  books  they  made  of  brains.  Some,  of  course,  were 
rubbish,  as  some  books  are  to-day ;  but  there  was,  after  all, 
great  light  in  them,  that  has  come  down  to  modern  times. 
They  gave  us  books  on  logic,  metaphysics,  arithmetic  and 
algebra,  on  chemistry  and  astronomy,  on  trigonometry  and 
special    measurements,    on   fine   arts   in   architecture,  on    the 


214  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

handling  of  coarse  and  precious  metals ;  they  furnished  us 
books  of  rhetoric,  poetry,  and  romance ;  they  gave  us  our 
globe,  —  at  all  events,  the  first  recorded  proof  of  the  earth's 
rotundity.  This  last  a  noble  caliph  did.  Over  there  beyond 
the  eastern  shore  of  this  great  sea  on  which  I  ride  to-day 
and  write.  Caliph  Al  Manum,  on  the  desert  Shinar  plains, 
more  than  a  thousand  years  ago,  by  the  aid  of  astrolabe  and 
polar  elevation,  determined  at  two  points,  set  two  degrees 
apart  on  one  meridian  line,  the  earth's  sphericity,  and  fixed 
its  circumference  at  twenty-four  thousand  miles.  Doubting 
his  work,  he  made  another  test  out  on  the  Mesopotamian  plain, 
and  amended  the  first  figure  by  the  fourth  part  of  a  mile.  This 
now  despised  people  mapped  the  starry  vault,  calculated  eclipses 
while  Europe  counted  them  the  Devil's  work,  determined  sol- 
stices and  conjunctions  of  the  stars  and  their  occupations ; 
made  great  improvements,  too,  in  water-clocks  and  dials  of 
the  sun. 

And  what  did  the  Moslem  priests  do  about  it?  Pretty  much 
as  Christian  ones  did  some  half  dozen  centuries  later.  They 
roundly  cursed  the  caliph,  declaring  that  God  would  surely 
punish  his  defiant  blasphemy.  They  said  the  world  was 
square,  bordered  about  by  mountains  over-roofed  with  crystal. 
But  the  caliph  fared  rather  better  than  poor  old  murdered  Bruno, 
or  the  less  defiant  Galileo,  and  went  on  about  his  work. 

Of  the  Cordovan  library  no  catalogue  remains.  It  held  six 
hundred  thousand  volumes,  all  heretical,  —  more  books  of  real 
knowledge  than  all  of  Christendom  then  owned,  a  thousand  to  one; 
for  in  those  times  all  books  beyond  the  pale  of  the  Church  were 
under  fearful  ban.  So  these  now  despised  men  are  descendants  of 
literary  and  scientific  giants,  after  all  \  they  translated  the  grand 
old  Grecian  classics  and  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament ; 
produced  the  best  of  reference  books,  geographical,  medical, 
statistical ;  made  copious  dictionaries  and  abridgments  of  them, 
and  encyclopaedias  of  all  the  sciences.  At  their  great  medi- 
cal school  at  Cairo  many  good  works  were  written.  The  first 
college  of  medicine  in  Europe  these  Saracens  established  at 
Salerno,  and  at  Seville  the  first  astronomical  observatory.  At 
all  these  schools  the  examinations  were  most  rigid,  —  copied 
in  the  main  by  our  best  schools  of  to-day.  Nor  was  the  relig- 
ious faith  of   the  student  questioned.      Strict  and   unyielding 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  215 

as  these  people  were  and  are,  they  did  not  close  their  doors 
and  books  to  those  of  other  creeds.  The  fountain  of  knowl- 
edge was  unobstructed  then,  and  all  who  came  athirst  might 
stop  and  freely  drink. 

Tihs  yarn  may  have  been  spun  too  long ;  but  you  will  bear 
in  mind  that  this  is  written  in  Arabia,  on  the  warm  waters  of 
this  old,  old  sea.  More  might  be  said  of  this  now  half-barbar- 
ous race,  of  their  queer  religious  forms  and  bigotry ;  but  it  is 
better  to  remember  the  good  things  men  have  done.  These 
people  are  not  what  they  once  were  ;  but  in  those  early  days, 

—  even  in  those  days  of  darkness  when  so-called  Christian 
bigotry  and  hate  stamped  out  as  much  as  it  could  the  learning 
of  the  East,  tore  down  the  noble  temples  of  the  golden  age, 
burned  the  rare  libraries,  drove  teachers  from  their  schools, 
and  welcomed  ignorance  and  faith  instead  of  light  and  reason, 

—  even  in  those  sad  days  of  darkness  that  blurred  the  earth 
for  several  hundred  years,  who  but  these  Arab  scholars  main- 
tained the  love  of  science  and  kept  its  altar  fires  aglow?  True 
in  some  sense  it  now  may  be  that  these  people  are  poor  and 
full  of  sin  and  wretchedness  ;  but  what  people  are  not  ?  They 
love  their  country  against  all  odds ;  they  love  their  flocks  and 
herds  and  unfenced  pasture-grounds ;  they  love  their  families 
and  friends,  and  think  no  lands  or  homes  as  good  as  theirs. 
They  love  their  faith,  and  in  its  defence  they  will  yield  up 
every  doit  and  give  their  very  lives. 

They  hate  the  Christian.  Very  likely ;  and  not  without 
some  cause.  For  many  hundred  years  no  arms  were  forged 
on  Christian  anvils  but  to  pierce  the  Saracen ;  not  to  hold 
him  in  check  so  much  as  to  fight  him  on  his  own  ground. 
The  fairly  written  history  of  the  world  does  not  belitde  these 
swarthy  men,  or  place  them  low  upon  the  scale  of  the  world's 
brave  and  earnest  workers.  Even  in  their  decline,  with  Turk 
and  Christian  foot  upon  their  necks,  I  like  their  daring  pluck 
and  fervent  love  of  home.  As  guest  of  Sheik  Mustapha  amid 
his  sandy  waste,  I  said :  "  You  have  lived  at  courts  and  been 
in  many  lands ;  have  seen  the  cities,  palaces,  and  thrones  of 
many  nations.  Say,  now,  where  in  all  the  world  would  you 
most  like  to  live  ?  "  "  Right  here  in  Luqsor."  Yet  he  lived  in 
a  hovel  on  the  burning  sands  !  But  you  rather  like  a  patriotic 
man,  wherever  his  home  may  be,  and  shun  the  one  who  sees 


2l6  A   GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

no  good  in  his  own  country.     The  Arab  loves  his  home,  his 
flocks,  his  faith.     What  lies  beyond  has  no  temptation  for  him. 

How  came  this  present  Arabian  decadence?  Why  has 
the  Saracen  stood  still  while  Christian  nations  have  climbed 
into  the  light  and  gained  the  mastery  of  the  commercial  world  ? 
Kismet  !  Ask  the  same  question  of  the  other  nations,  tribes, 
and  kingdoms,  those  that  have  come  and  gone  from  earUest 
dawn  till  now.  You  may  say  that  it  is  her  religion.  But  her 
worship  was  the  same  even  in  her  days  of  might.  \\'hen  did  her 
faith  count  more  followers  than  now?  Two  hundred  millions 
of  people  pray  five  times  a  day,  faced  toward  Mecca. 

•  •  •  •  •  ■  • 

Our  ship  sails  well  to-day,  and  passes  Jedda,  seaport  of 
Mecca.  If  you  should  stop  there  you  would  find  a  thrifty 
village,  and  the  tomb  of  good  old  Mother  Eve,  which  the 
people  show  with  pride.  Adam  was  buried  at  Jerusalem, 
they  say,  but  Eve  rests  at  Jedda.  A  day  or  two  hence  —  I 
don't  know  just  when  or  where  —  we  shall  cross  the  track 
where  Moses  and  his  people  tramped  the  ocean's  solid  floor 
between  two  watery  walls,  held  firm  and  pulseless  by  the  all- 
powerful  will  of  God ;  where  Pharaoh  and  his  hosts,  ventur- 
ing too  rashly  on  their  fleeing  prey,  were  caught  between  the 
unfettered  briny  walls  and  strangled  in  the  wave.  A  most 
historic  place,  the  like  of  which  no  other  water  knows.  I 
have  read  somewhere  that  a  goodly  sum  is  being  raised  in 
Christian  lands  to  dredge  this  great  Red  Sea,  to  find,  if  pos- 
sible, something  of  the  wreck  of  Pharaoh's  fierce  army;  and 
I  should  count  myself  most  fortunate  if  upon  this  trip  we 
might  mention  somewhat  of  sea-gnawed  chariot  wheels,  helmets, 
horses'  bits,  or  anything  fished  up  from  underneath  this  flood 
that  will  forever  establish  the  good  old  miracle.  These  Arabs 
are  strong  believers  in  the  Mosaic  narrative,  and  say  the 
day  will  come  when  every  word  that  Moses  wrote  and  spake 
will  be  made  plain  to  the  living  and  the  dead.  If  our  good 
Christian  people  had  as  much  solid  Bible  faith,  they  would  let 
Red  Sea  rummaging  alone,  and  use  the  fund  to  help  some  easier 
enterprises  nearer  home. 

Although  the  wind  has  been  against  us  for  the  past  few  days, 
yet  our  ship  makes  good  progress  in  the  Gulf  of  Suez,  and  to- 
morrow morning  will  set  us  down  in  Suez,  after  a  very  comfort- 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  21/ 

able  passage  of  twelve  and  a  half  days  from  Bombay.  The 
Gulf  of  Suez  is  much  narrower  than  the  Red  Sea,  —  so  narrow 
that  the  yellow  sandy  shores  and  hungry  mountain  ranges 
which  wall  it  in  on  either  hand  are  plainly  visible  ;  painfully 
so,  in  fact,  for  such  utter  desolation  you  will  rarely  see.  The 
broad  plains  that  come  down  to  the  salty  beach,  that  should 
be  meadows  fair,  with  houses,  villages,  farms,  and  trees  and 
cattle,  are  only  arid,  barren  wastes,  where  lives  no  blade  of 
grass,  where  life  or  help  or  welcome  there  is  none.  Beyond 
these  rise  the  mountains  in  long-continued  ranges,  picturesque, 
undulating,  full  of  sloping  valleys,  ridges,  and  fair  plateaus. 
These  should  be  clad  with  soft  green  verdure,  trees  and 
vines  and  thrifty  shrubs  and  mosses,  catching  moisture  from 
the  passing  clouds,  sending  down  sparkling  brooks  and  many 
a  silver  cascade ;  the  home  of  cooling  springs  and  lovely  ferns 
and  flowers,  gladdening  the  eye  and  framing  the  vales  and  deep 
blue  waters  of  the  gulf  like  a  noble  picture.  But  these  moun- 
tains are  a  vaunting  desolation,  —  petrified  bhsters  which  op- 
press the  eye  and  stifle  every  happy  thought.  Parched  and 
sere,  they  lift  their  bold  burnt  peaks  against  the  sky  as  if  to 
blast  it.  Down  upon  the  waters  of  the  sea  they  frown,  as 
though  they  would  dry  them  up  and  wither  every  fair  object 
within  their  sight. 

Right  over  there  upon  our  starboard  beam  is  Sinai,  —  moun- 
tain of  the  conversation,  mountain  supreme ;  the  only  spot  on 
earth,  't  is  said,  where  God  has  stooped  from  the  clouds  and 
with  His  own  bared  hand  placed  in  the  hand  of  puny  man 
the  statutes  He  had  made  to  govern  men  on  this  fair  earth. 
There  is  Sinai  Mount,  just  behind  this  foremost  range,  only 
some  twenty  miles  away  from  where  I  sit  to-day.  I  cannot 
see  it,  and  am  glad  I  cannot,  for  of  that  most  noted  mount 
of  all  the  earth  one  would  like  to  have  the  purest  thoughts. 
But  it 's  like  all  the  rest,  —  bare  and  bleak,  desolate  as 
raging  heat  and  want  of  floral  garnishment  can  make  it.  By 
it  is  the  monastery  of  St.  Katherine,  built  there  by  Justinian 
many  hundred  years  ago,  with  chapel  fair,  and  motley  monks 
who  drone  about  there  several  years,  then  go  away  to  pose 
as  martyrs,  —  I  can't  just  tell  you  why,  —  and  make  room  for 
others.  In  olden  times,  when  Christians  made  pilgrim  tours 
to  Sinai,  this  monastic  pile  was  prosperous,  —  had  some  several 


21 8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

hundred  occupants,  who  delved  among  the  ancient  tomes  and 
entertained  the  pious  ones  who  came  here,  foot-sore  and  weary, 
to  see  the  spot  where  God  came  down  to  earth,  and 
Moses  read  the  law  unto  his  people  from  off  the  stone  en- 
graved in  heaven.  Those  were  rather  palmy  days  for  this 
old  quiet  monkish  place.  But  it  is  different  now.  No  weary 
sandalled  troops  of  Christians  now  come  with  crucifix  and 
banners  fair  to  worship  in  the  holy  mount  and  offer  prayers 
at  this  cloud-capped  granitic  shrine.  Now  and  then  some 
ardent  Christians  slowly  wander  here,  —  mostly  Greek  in  faith, 
members  of  that  army  of  secular  tramps  who  visit  Sinai  or 
Jerusalem,  as  they  see  Yosemite  or  meander  round  Buddh- 
istic shrine  or  swelter  in  the  raging  India  sun,  lest  nothing 
famous  or  peculiar  should  escape  their  observation. 

What  do  these  Greek  church  monks  at  Sinai?  They  stay 
there,  as  I  have  said,  a  certain  number  of  years,  then  go  away. 
They  entertain  the  few  travellers  that  come  here,  and  draw  the 
dues  belonging  to  the  place.  They  go  to  chapel  twice  each  day 
and  night,  and  each  time  say  the  things  they  said  each  previous 
time ;  go  through  the  motions,  count  their  prayers  and  beads, 
hold  fasts,  and  so  the  time  goes  on.  In  olden  times  women 
and  cats  and  hens  were  not  admitted  here.  I  don't  know  the 
reason  why  this  diverse  trinity  should  have  been  banned ;  but 
so  it  was.  But  in  these  latter  and  better  times  the  pious  or  the 
curious  of  either  sex  may  go  and  see  and  have  a  chance  to  rest 
in  good  St.  Katherine's.  How  it  is  with  the  cats  and  hens,  there 
is  no  present  statement ;  but  it  is  fair  to  think  that  these,  too, 
find  a  place  in  that  dismal  mountain  barrack,  over  there  beyond 
the  parched  sands  across  the  desolate  rocks. 

The  monks  are  ignorant,  it  is  said,  —  don't  have  much 
out-door  work  to  do,  yet  make  their  own  bread  and  clothes 
and  shoes,  and  do  their  garden  work,  except  the  portion 
that  is  done  by  slaves.  Slaves?  Well,  in  Justinian's  time, 
after  he  had  built  the  place,  and  chopped  the  head  off  from 
the  architect  who  had  some  words  with  him  about  the  site, 
he  made  to  this  monastery  a  present  —  so  the  history  runs 
—  of  two  hundred  slaves,  with  all  their  wives  and  children  ; 
and  their  descendants  still,  though  Moslems  all,  do  service 
for  these  monks.  They  call  themselves  Jebliyeh,  or  "  moim- 
taineers;"  the  others  call  them  Nazarenes.     A  specialty  here 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  219 

among  these  monks  is  brandy-making.  If  you  go  there,  and 
like  such  stuff,  you  will  no  doubt  have  a  taste ;  for  they  do 
say  it  is  not  bad  to  take,  and  the  brethren  seem  to  like  it  very 
much.  Yet  none  the  less  it  seems  a  shame  that  holy  ordered 
wardens  of  such  holy  ground  should  be  so  ill-employed  as  to  be 
making  wicked  drinks  to  fire  men's  blood  and  brains,  away  up 
there,  five  thousand  feet  in  air,  like  mountain  moonshiners. 
But  as  they  drink  no  wine  or  beer,  and  eat  no  meat,  it  may 
not  be  too  much  to  let  them  have  a  little  good  date  brandy 
for  their  stomachs'  sake. 

In  old  times  here,  when  an  abbot  died,  —  so  Herr  Scheh- 
berger's  account  sets  it  down,  —  a  great  wonder  took  place  ; 
for  when  a  monk  began  to  die,  his  lamp  began  to  wane  ;  when 
it  went  out,  he  died.  And  when  the  abbot  died,  the  monk  who 
sat  and  sang  his  praise  after  the  proper  mass  was  done  found 
there  upon  the  altar,  as  though  some  angelic  hand  had  brought 
it  straight  from  heaven,  a  written  letter,  which  when  opened 
revealed  the  name  of  him  who  must  succeed  the  departed  one 
in  office.  This  is  not  important  now,  as  they  do  not  have  any 
more  abbots  at  St.  Katherine's ;  but  it  is  a  holy  sort  of  antique 
legend  that  is  well  worth  knowing  as  touching  the  easy  manner 
in  which  important  vacancies  were  filled  at  this  rather  noted  spot 
some  fleeting  years  ago. 

The  monastery  is  a  sort  of  fortress  also,  and  contains  some 
rather  harmless  cannon.  But  a  better  protection  than  this  is 
the  Moslem  church  or  mosque  within  its  walls.  Rather  curious 
it  seems  to  us  that  these  two  great  religions  should  be  both  rep- 
resented here,  —  the  church  of  the  Transfiguration  and  a  Moslem 
mosque  standing  peacefully  side  by  side.  But  it  was  a  compro- 
mise. The  Arab  wouldn't  let  the  Christian  rest  without  this 
fraternal  sort  of  forced  partnership ;  so  disciples  both  of  Christ 
and  Mahomet  may  come  here  to  St.  Katherine's  and  worship 
close  together,  cross  and  crescent  side  by  side.  Well,  that 's 
better  than  fighting.  Yet  perhaps  it  wouldn't  work  so  well 
were  Christians  to  ask  to  have  a  church  of  theirs  reared  near 
the  Kaaba  stone  at  Mecca.  But  one  will  be,  some  day.  We 
can  wait. 

Leaving  Bombay  February  8,  we  reach  Suez  twelve  days 
later,  —  six  months  from  San  Francisco.     Two  full  months  have 


220  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

we  spent  in  ships.  We  protest  that  it  is  too  large  a  percent- 
age to  devote  to  them,  but  it  will  not  always  be  so.  We  will 
prophesy ;  but  as  the  prediction  will  not  be  verified  in  our  life- 
time or  yours,  you  can  safely  take  which  side  of  it  you  like,  my 
patient  reader,  without  much  damage  to  your  reputation  either 
way. 

The  time  is  coming  when  you  may  consign  your  happiness  to 
the  porter  of  a  Pullman  palace  car  in  Chicago,  glide  to  the  far 
Northwest,  —  up  through  Manitoba,  on  to  and  through  Alaska, 
crossing  Behring  Strait  by  boat  or  ice  track ;  pass  down 
through  Siberia  and  Mongolia  to  China,  taking  in  Pekin,  Tien- 
tsin, Shanghai,  Canton  ;  across  through  northern  Burmah  to 
Calcutta,  whence,  taking  the  present  roads  as  far  as  they  go, 
you  go  on  to  the  Herat  valley,  striking  the  road  just  now  almost 
complete,  which  forms  a  continuous  rail  to  Moscow,  Paris, 
Liverpool. 

Suez  is  not  much  of  a  place.  It  is  old  and  ugly,  full  of  sailors, 
dirt,  and  dogs  ;  but  as  an  antique,  it  is  rather  interesting.  It 
was  founded  about  the  time  Adam  was  a  boy,  and  was  an  old 
Egyptian  seaport  town  thousands  of  years  ago.  Here  Necho's 
ships  set  sail  to  circumnavigate  Africa,  from  which  early  nautical 
enterprise  it  has  been  partly  proved  and  partly  supposed  that 
this  most  noted  people  came  to  believe  in  the  earth's  rotundity. 
For  it  is  asserted  that  in  the  great  Alexandrian  library,  some 
centuries  before  this  era,  there  existed  a  terrestrial  globe, — 
something  like  those  we  now  use.  From  Suez,  too,  in  very 
olden  time,  almost  before  the  discovery  of  Europe,  ran  the 
broad  canal  built  by  Seti  I.  and  Ramses  II.,  that  floated  ships 
of  Egypt  to  Phoenician  ports  ;  that  floated  ships  of  Tyre,  —  King 
Hiram's  ships,  —  and  ships  of  Solomon,  that  traded  oft  with 
Ophir,  —  now,  perhaps,  Ceylon,  —  bringing  home  rich  stores  of 
spices,  gums,  and  precious  stones.  The  Pharaoh,  Seti,  lived 
thirty-four  centuries  ago.  This  ancient  water-way  becoming 
choked  with  sand,  De  Lesseps  cleared  it  out  some  twenty  years 
ago,  and  other  ships  now  pass  here  to  and  fro.  None  come 
from  Tyrian  ports  nor  Judc-ean  Jaffa  ;  Hiram  has  long  been  dead, 
and  Solomon  lives  but  in  his  proverbs  and  his  widely  scattered 
sons  of  trade. 

Some  years  before  that  time  —  about  forty-one  centuries  since 
—  a  bright  young  Hebrew  youth  they  called  Moses  (the  word 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  221 

is  )no,  "water,"  and  uses,  "drawn  out")  was  here  on  a  flying 
trip  to  Midian.  The  story  goes  —  you  may  never  have  read  it 
—  that  as  a  baby  he  was  picked  up  one  day  from  among  the 
alders,  where  his  good  mother  had  deposited  him  for  safe-keep- 
ing, by  one  Miss  Pharaoh,  who  took  a  fancy  to  the  Httle  fellow 
and  had  him  sent  to  school,  —  the  University  at  On,  where 
Joseph  hitherto  had  been,  and  married  Miss  Asenath  Potipera, 
a  lovely  daughter  of  a  professor  there.  Moses,  it  would  seem, 
got  a  good  education  at  Pharaoh's  expense.  When  he  came 
to  the  front  he  was  rather  a  testy  man.  At  all  events,  not  long 
after  his  graduation  he  mixed  in  a  broil  between  a  Hebrew  and 
Egyptian  man,  and  brained  one  of  the  antagonists.  It  would  n't 
do  to  stay  around  there  and  get  arrested,  and  possibly  hung  for 
murder,  —  for  that  was  what  it  was,  —  so  he  did  as  many  a  fellow 
has  done  since  :  he  quit  the  country,  came  to  Suez,  and  crossed 
right  over  into  Midian  and  hired  out  on  Jethro's  ranch.  Why 
this  seems  certain  is  that  only  an  hour  or  two  away  from  here  is 
Moses'  Well,  or  Springs  of  Moses,  where  Jethro's  flocks  were 
watered,  and  which  for  several  thousand  years  supplied  Suez 
with  most  of  the  fresh  water  its  people  had  ;  and  to  these 
copious  springs  full  many  a  pilgrim  from  afar  now  goes  and 
stands  and  drinks  where  the  self-exiled  Moses  stood  and  drank 
and  watched  his  flocks  beneath  the  graceful  palms.  Still  later 
on,  when  Moses  had  repented  his  sudden  rashness  and  become 
a  chosen  force  to  move  the  Israelitish  horde  from  the  Egyptian 
land  and  the  galling  yoke  of  bondage,  he  returned  to  Suez  and 
to  Egypt ;  and  when  he  started  eastward  with  his  plunder-laden 
tribes  and  came  unto  the  borders  of  the  sea,  his  outstretched 
rod  here  spread  apart  these  deep  blue  waters  just  below  Suez, 
and  quite  in  sight  of  it,  you  may  believe,  and  let  his  people  pass 
dry-shod,  while  their  pursuers  found  a  watery  grave.  There  is  a 
legend  here  that  at  this  spring  the  tribes  gathered  and  sang  their 
songs  of  praise  to  God  for  their  delivery.  Another  legend  runs 
that  this  is  the  very  place  where  Moses  smote  the  rock  and 
brought  a  gushing  stream  that  quenched  all  their  thirst ;  but  as 
no  rock  is  at  or  near  this  old  mud-walled  oasis  spring,  you  may 
be  inclined  to  place  that  miracle  farther  on,  and  to  hke  your 
own  version  best. 

Stirring  times  were  those   in  Suez.     How  the  citizens  ran 
about  the  streets  and  shouted  and  stared  and  wondered  !     How 


222  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  people  of  all  Egypt  hurried  to  the  spot  and  looked  on 
amazed  !  How  the  boats  and  skiffs  put  out  and  sailed  and 
sculled  about  the  much-disturbed  waters,  gathering  up  the 
floating  ones  who  could  n't  swim  ashore  !  And  how  the  swift 
reporters  prowled  about  the  spot  and  made  up  column  after 
column  here  of  happenings  and  interviews ;  and  how  the  then 
narrow  world  heard  of  this  grand  deliverance,  this  punishment 
condign  of  those  who  dared  the  power  of  the  Almiglity  One  who 
bade  His  suffering  people  go  ! 

As  to  there  being  newspapers  here  in  those  days,  I  take  that 
much  in  the  way  of  hcense.  It  was  a  land  of  great  intelligence, 
—  a  land  of  paper,  books,  and  noble  schools  of  learning ;  and 
these  without  the  daily  press  seem  past  our  comprehension. 
Close  down  to  Suez  grew  the  great  papyrus  marshes,  whence 
came  all  the  paper  that  the  world  then  knew,  —  the  same  we  see 
to-day  in  big  rolls  delivered  from  the  long-closed  tombs ;  the 
same  that  went  to  Tyre  and  Babylon  for  uses  there ;  the  same 
on  which  the  first  part  of  the  great  Pergamos  library,  that 
Antony  gave  his  petted  Cleopatra,  was  written.  I  say  the 
first,  for  that  is  true.  The  other  part  was  written  on  tanned 
goat-skins,  and  this  is  how  it  came  about :  Egypt  ran  to  making 
many  books.  Her  library  was  her  pride.  A  Pergamean  prince, 
Attains  Philadelphus,  had  the  same  failing  ;  and  it  came  one  day 
to  sharp  Pharaonic  ears  that  the  Pergamean  books  were  over- 
matching his.  The  monarch  gave  the  order :  "  Close  the 
account  with  that  presuming  prince  at  Pergamos.  Ship  not 
another  ounce  of  paper  to  his  stupid  town,  or,  by  my  throne  and 
beard,  you  die  on  sight  !     Obey  !  " 

The  old  emperor  knew  he  had  a  corner  on  the  paper  market, 
for  it  was  all  made  in  his  dominions.  He  argued  to  himself 
that  without  papyrus  no  books  could  be  made  ;  and  if  no  books 
could  be  made  at  upstart  Pergamos,  why,  that  was  the  end  of 
the  library  competition.  But  he  was  mistaken.  Full  many  a 
mighty  man  has  found  his  match  before  and  since.  Men  who 
make  books  have  brains ;  leastwise  they  ought  to  have.  The 
man  at  Pergamos  proved  it.  Finding  his  jxiper  supply  thus 
summarily  cut  off,  he  called  a  messenger.  "  Go  forth  into  the 
tanners'  street,"  he  said,  "and  summon  every  master  tanner 
here  !  "  They  came.  He  said  :  "A  talent  of  fine  gold  to  him 
who  brings  me  leather  so  prepared  as  to  be  good  to  write  my 


ARABIA    AND  EGYPT.  223 

books  upon.  Go  !  "  The  samples  came  in  time,  and  they 
were  perfect.  Since  then  the  world  has  had  no  end  of  parch- 
ment. The  very  name  is  but  an  altered  form  of  the  word 
Pergamos.  What  became  of  this  papyrus-parchment  library 
will  be  told  farther  on. 

The  Suez  of  to-day  is  not  the  stirring  paper-making  place  it 
was  in  ages  past  and  gone,  but  quite  a  common  smutty  seaport 
town,  with  small  bazaars  and  narrow  streets,  and  a  population 
devoted  to  catching  fish  and  eking  a  living  out  of  passing  ships 
and  travellers.  The  old-time  industry  of  bringing  fresh  water 
from  Moses'  spring  to  supply  the  town  withal  is  now  quite 
gone,  for  by  the  enterprise  of  the  late  khedive  sweet  water 
comes  here  from  old  Father  Nile  in  great  abundance. 

It  seems  as  though  some  cities  cannot  die.  Such  is  Suez. 
Older  than  any  history,  —  stirring  at  times,  then  dropping  into 
centuries  of  rot  and  ruin,  —  she  now  seems  to  have  got  a  perma- 
nent lease  of  life  from  the  great  canal  which  finds  the  Red  Sea 
here.  This  calls  for  docks  and  wharves  and  harbor  walls,  hotels 
and  offices,  and  a  large  force  of  foreign  servants  who  stay  be- 
cause they  want  the  wage  they  get.  Here  now  the  Indian  mail- 
bags  land,  which,  while  the  vessels  poke  at  snail  pace  through 
the  dirty  ditch,  catch  here  the  Alexandria  train  and  rush  across 
the  delta.  At  Alexandria  a  swift  mail-boat  waits  to  steam  away, 
—  three  days  to  Brindisi,  in  Italy,  where  waits  a  fast  express  to 
shoot  across  the  continent,  reaching  London  without  stop  in 
fifty-six  hours  ;  then  on  again  to  Holyhead,  across  to  Dublin 
by  a  twenty-knot  steamer,  then  by  the  mail  express  again  to 
Queenstown,  —  about  six  days  and  a  half  from  Suez  to  the  deck 
of  an  Atlantic  steamer  bound  for  New  York  ;  from  Suez  to 
America  in  about  fifteen  days  ;  but  seventeen  days  from  the 
Mississippi  to  the  Nile  !  So  close  are  the  ends  of  the  earth  now 
brought  together. 

•  •••••• 

There  is  very  little  here  in  Alexandria  to  interest  the  traveller. 
The  monuments  are  all  gone  save  one,  and  that  is  of  mediaeval 
times.  The  walls  that  Alexander  built  are  dust.  His  noble 
temples  and  gymnasia  no  longer  have  a  place.  The  libraries 
founded  here,  and  museums  of  the  Old  World's  art  and  progress, 
were  long  since  swept  away  by  furious  war  and  yet  more  cruel 
bigotry.     The  grand  harbor  Alexander  built  to  safely  hold  his 


224  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

wrathful  ships  and  welcome  merchantmen  is  now  filled  up  with 
mud  and  silt ;  and  Pharos,  too,  that  towering  lighthouse  of  the 
Orient  that  nearer  pierced  the  clouds  than  any  work  of  man  has 
ever  done  before  or  since  its  time,  is  gone,  and  not  a  vestige 
left.  Here,  in  the  place  of  all  these  works  and  scenes,  amid 
which  Alexander,  Pompey,  Cfesar,  and  Mark  Antony  stood  ;  this 
home  of  Cleopatra  and  the  Ptolemies  and  their  wicked  loves  ; 
this  precious  studying-place  of  the  grand  Greek  schools,  where 
Euchd  taught  his  theorems  and  Strabo  studied  long,  where  Hip- 
parchus  and  Ptolemseus  lived  with  the  stars  and  made  the  astral 
vault  familiar  to  the  world,  where  Archimedes  developed  grand 
mechanic  schemes,  and  Erasistratus  taught  his  scholars  the  won- 
ders of  the  human  anatomy,  where  Zenodotus  and  Callimachus 
told  of  the  power  of  words  and  arranged  books  for  students' 
use,  where  students  of  the  world  came  by  tens  of  thousands  to 
study  the  ways  and  works  of  old  and  new  and  dawning  science, 
and  catch  in  cadmic  grove  and  shady  terraces  the  honeyed  words 
of  wisdom  falling  from  the  lips  of  studious  sages  of  that  day,  — 
here  1  stand  to-day  and  gaze  and  meditate.  Before  me  lies  the 
map  of  this  ancient  city,  made  as  Alexander  planned  it.  The 
streets  are  wide  and  airy,  —  rectangular.  The  open  spaces  are 
broad  ;  thick  walls  enclose  it  round  about ;  there  are  safe  gates 
and  harbors,  docks,  moles,  and  canals.  To-day  the  noble  site  is 
overrun  with  tangled,  narrow,  fetid  streets,  — mere  dirty  hovelled 
lanes  without  a  plot  or  plan,  straggling  about  as  if  lost  and  dazed 
in  a  dark  night  of  bigotry  and  ignorance,  not  knowing  where  to 
go.  So  indeed  were  fair  plans  and  scenes  all  trampled  under 
foot  by  human  swine  ;  so  were  the  lights  of  studious  men  blown 
out  by  such  as  claimed  to  be  the  sons  of  light ;  so  were  the 
stars  pulled  down  and  trodden  into  the  mire,  and  the  fair  prog- 
ress of  the  world  held  back  and  swamped  in  idiotic  fog  for  quite 
a  thousand  years. 

This  is  not  a  theory,  a  sophic  speculation,  but  a  solemn,  sorry 
fact ;  and  they  who  come  here  where  the  world's  best  minds  in 
ages  past  were  wont  to  come,  stand  here  in  sorrow,  sorrowing 
for  the  loved  and  lost,  the  light  of  ages  that  was  here  stamped  out, 
—  light  of  the  museum,  the  world's  first  full-fledged  university ; 
light  of  the  Bruchion  library,  with  forty  thousand  books  of 
Oriental  lore,  burned  in  a  single  day  by  Coesar's  troops  ;  light  of 
the  Serapion  collection,  larger  still,  destroyed  at  one  fell  swoop 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  225 

from  off  the  green  earth's  face  by  Theophilus,  Archbishop  of  the 
Alexandrian  See,  acting  under  the  withering  order  of  Christian 
Emperor  Tlieodosius,  a.  d.  391. 

So  died  the  hght.  Then  came  the  days  and  centuries  of 
gloom.  Why  were  these  schools  and  books  destroyed  ?  The 
destruction  of  the  Bruchion  was  a  result  of  war.  Ccesar  fought 
his  hated  son-in-law,  Pompey,  at  Pharsalia,  and  conquered  him. 
Pompey  fled  to  Egypt.  Caesar  pursued  him,  landed,  fought 
more  fights  right  there,  and  somehow  in  the  furious  fray  of  fire 
and  sword  the  library  was  burned,  —  a  loss  more  mourned  than 
loss  of  crowns  and  kingdoms.  The  great  Pergamean  library, 
competitor  of  the  Bruchion,  had  fallen  into  Roman  hands,  — 
Mark  Antony's.  This  sometimes  right  and  often  wrong  headed 
man,  charmed  by  Cleopatra,  the  then  bewitching,  wayward  Egypt 
queen,  brought  all  the  library  of  Pergamos  to  Alexandria  and 
gave  it  to  the  queen,  and  thus  was  founded  on  the  ashes  of  the 
lost  Serapion  a  larger  library  still,  —  the  largest,  brightest,  best 
the  world  had  ever  seen. 

Then  arose  that  golden  age  of  scholarship.  Here  thronged 
the  scholars  of  the  world  to  read,  to  teach,  to  learn  and  lecture, 
—  to  drink  their  fill  of  all  the  world's  wisdom  in  science,  arts, 
philosophy.  These  men  learned  geography,  —  sought  to  solve 
the  mysteries  of  earth ;  here  they  sought  the  starry  depths  and 
made  astronomy  their  care ;  here  sought  the  mysteries  of  the 
human  frame,  —  made  medicine  and  surgery  their  careful  quest ; 
and  here  amid  the  reading-halls  and  silent  groves,  or  in  the 
presence  of  their  lecturers,  they  walked  and  sat,  they  read  and 
thought,  discussed  and  heard,  and  gained  great  mental  strength. 
They  were  breaking  the  world's  thick  crust  of  ignorance.  They 
were  letting  in  the  sunlight,  planting  good  seed,  and  watering 
their  tender  shoots,  that  the  world  of  man  might  know  the 
knowable  and  be  better  for  it. 

What  fault  did  Theodosius  find  with  this?  The  story  is  a 
long  one,  but  you  will  find  it  in  the  books.  It  will  not  be  much 
told  you  in  the  schools,  nor  told  you  from  the  pulpit ;  yet  in 
those  far-off  early  Christian  da5^s  some  men  were  very  mean  as 
well  as  before  and  after.  I  much  dislike  to  term  them  Chris- 
tians, for  there  was  so  little  of  Christ  or  Christianity  about  them 
that  the  name  is  a  sad  misnomer ;  and  still  we  have  to  use  it. 
The  emperor  and  his  archbishops  made  the  laws  of  the  Church, 

15 


226  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  the  Church  was  everything.  Its  managers  directed  the 
preaching  and  the  teaching,  and  styling  themselves  the  chosen 
ones  of  God  to  rule  the  earth's  afifairs,  decided  all  beyond  their 
line  and  ken  was  heathen,  and  all  that  heathendom  could  do 
was  wrong  and  wicked,  hateful  in  the  sight  of  God  :  what  was 
hateful  in  His  sight  must  be  wiped  out.  So  went  down  the 
Alexandrian  schools  and  library,  to  rise  no  more  forever.  So 
were  the  teachers  murdered  in  the  streets  ;  so  was  the  quivering 
flesh  torn  from  Hypatia's  bones  because  she  taught  her  scholars 
useful  ways  and  arts ;  so  were  the  school-rooms  levelled  to  the 
ground,  and  so  the  museum  sacked,  here  in  this  city,  now  so 
clothed  with  ignorance  and  dirt. 

To  the  student  of  history  there  is  no  sadder  spot  on  earth 
than  this.  Here  commerce  and  art  combined  with  science  and 
literature  to  conquer  ignorance.  The  librarian  was  required  to 
collect  all  writings,  near  or  far ;  and  to  the  task  Demetrius 
Phalerius  directed  every  effort,  and  every  court  and  kingdom 
yielded  up  its  store.  Professors,  too,  of  the  ripest  and  most 
prosperous  schools  were  called  here  to  teach  and  to  direct,  and 
this  far-off  spot  became  the  great  arena  of  intellectual  giants  who 
met  in  friendly  contest.  Not  less  than  fourteen  thousand  stu- 
dents at  one  time  were  here  enrolled  within  these  noble  school 
and  lecture  rooms  and  halls,  gathering  their  scientific  harvest. 
Here  Aristotle's  followers,  here  the  disciples  of  Plato,  here  the 
flower  of  all  the  world,  discussed  material  and  ethereal  things, 
aided  by  the  best  of  books  brought  in  from  near  and  far,  —  seven 
hundred  thousand  volumes ;  a  wealth  of  garnered  thought  the 
like  of  which  the  world  has  since  then  never  seen.  Here  mind 
met  mind,  as  steel  strikes  adamant,  emitting  brightest  sparks  of 
dazzling  thought  illuminating  the  darkness  all  around.  There 
were  astronomers,  geographers,  mechanics,  and  engineers ;  phi- 
losophers met  geometers  ;  zoologists  met  botanists ;  here  were 
gardens  of  zoology  and  botany,  and  every  means  then  known 
for  the  anatomical  dissection  of  the  human  body.  Nothing  that 
wealth  could  buy  or  power  bring  was  neglected  to  make  this 
school  the  lighthouse  of  the  world,  —  the  earthly  fountain-head 
of  every  branch  of  knowledge. 

And  while  these  labors  thus  went  on,  and  learning  here  had 
reached  the  highest  point  of  present  possibility,  then  came  and 
fell   the    fatal   blow.     Dragged  from  its  orbit  was  the  sun  of 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  22/ 

science  ;  burned  and  dispersed  all  these  collected  books ;  driven 
out  by  fire  and  mob  the  teachers  and  their  students ;  denuded 
were  their  halls  and  courts,  and  laid  waste  their  gardens,  groves, 
and  walks.  The  sun  went  down,  —  set  behind  clouds  of  bigotry 
and  darkness,  behind  the  waters  of  a  deep  and  muddy  sea  of 
ignorance  and  superstition.  The  learned  men  were  branded  as 
sorcerers  closely  leagued  with  hell.  Those  who  would  heal 
the  sick  by  herb  or  draught  were  cut  down  as  dogs.  The 
Church  assumed  all  knowledge  and  administered  all  law  ;  settled 
all  points  of  science  with  chosen  Bible  texts ;  cured  all  disease 
with  pious  relics.  What  could  not  be  done  by  prayer,  or  laying 
on  of  pious  hands,  or  bits  of  sainted  dead,  or  splinters  from 
Calvary's  cross  or  crib  of  Bethlehem,  was  past  all  cure,  and  all 
attempt  to  accomplish  cure  by  doctors'  ways  was  but  defiant 
blasphemy. 

No  wonder  that  the  sun  went  down  in  blackest  of  all  nights, 
when  such  an  ignorant  crew  as  that  which  then  had  gained 
power  in  this  fair  land  could  exercise  its  strength.  No  wonder 
the  dark  age  came  on  and  overcast  the  East  and  all  European 
states  wherever  this  sort  of  thought  —  or,  rather,  lack  of  thought 

—  prevailed.  No  wonder  that  for  a  thousand  years  thereafter 
no  physician's  life  was  safe  in  Rome.  No  wonder  that  a  thou- 
sand years  later  good  men  were  burned  alive  for  saying  this 
globe  was  round  and  stars  were  only  other  worlds ;  no  wonder 
Jews  were  slaughtered,  witches  hung,  and  dumb  brute  horses 
burned  at  stakes  as  the  hiding-place  of  devils. 

But  the  cloud  has  partly  lifted,  God  be  thanked  !  and  this 
defiling  rot  of  bigotry  is  relegated  to  its  proper  place.  But  poor 
old  Alexandria  never  regained  her  feet,  and  perhaps  never  will. 
The  very  streets  are  full  of  the  decay  that  covers  the  old  city's 
ways.  The  monuments  are  gone  ;  gone  the  temples  fair  and 
obelisks ;  gone  the  monumental  Pharos,  wonder  of  the  world, 
whose  topmost  stone  was  five  hundred  and  ninety  feet  in  air ; 
gone  all  semblance  of  power  ;  and  only  left  a  dirty  seaport  town, 

—  a  station  on  the  highway  to  the  East,  to  which  you  come  to 
get  away  again  as  quickly  as  you  can. 

An  hour  or  two  here  is  enough.  You  take  a  hasty  drive  to 
Pompey's  Pillar,- — a  handsome  granite  shaft  sixty-seven  feet 
high  and  nine  feet  in  diameter,  with  handsome  granite  base  and 
partly  ruined  capital,  one  hundred  and  four  feet  in  all.     The 


228  A    GIRDLE  HOUND    THE  EARTH. 

world  in  general  thinks  of  it  as  referring  to  Pompey  the  Great, 
whose  sun  went  down  at  Pharsalia  and  whose  trunkless  head 
was  handed  Julius  Caesar  at  Pelusium ;  but  it  was  raised  to 
Diocletian's  memory  for  certain  gifts  of  corn  made  by  that 
emperor  during  a  famine  here,  and  should  be  called  Diocletian's 
column. 

Here,  to  Alexandria,  came  good  Saint  Mark  to  preach  the  new 
doctrine.  Here  he  died  ;  and  here  the  Venetian  merchants 
came  and  stole  away  his  dust,  and  hiding  it  beneath  some 
chunks  of  pork,  succeeded  in  passing  the  customs  gate,  and 
bearing  it,  securely  tied  up,  high  among  the  rigging,  even  to 
Venice,  where  the  beauteous  St.  Mark's  church  was  raised  to 
receive  it.  It  is  said  that  a  storm  arose  during  this  piratical 
craft's  passage  to  Venice,  but  so  promptly  did  Saint  Mark  come 
forth  and  bid  the  sea  be  still,  and  so  meekly  did  the  sea  obey, 
that  no  harm  ensued. 

There  is  a  bronze  statue  here  of  Mohammed  Ali,  despite  the 
Moslem  opposition  to  such  things  ;  but  these  fierce  religionists, 
who  once  in  Mecca  broke  in  pieces  the  statues  of  their  fathers, 
Abraham  and  Ishmael,  have  not  now  the  courage  to  smite  down 
the  figure  of  the  great  monarch  Ali,  either  here  or  at  Cairo. 
The  Catacombs  are  meagre  and  choked  up,  containing  some 
early  Christian  frescos,  but  nothing  worth  the  traveller's  while. 
You  spend  your  hours  of  necessary  waiting  among  the  shops 
and  much-infested  wharves,  then  take  your  leave,  not  hoping  to 
return. 

•  •••••• 

In  Cairo.  My  girdle  round  the  earth  is  half  completed.  I 
have  travelled  west  for  fully  half  a  year,  by  land  and  sea,  by  rail 
and  ship,  by  karuma  and  cart,  by  sedan  chair  and  gharry,  by 
horse  and  mule  and  camel  and  donkey  and  elephant,  and  here  I 
am  among  this  curious  Cairo  crowd  once  more,  revisiting  my 
tracks  of  other  years.  I  have  had  good  luck  :  have  not  been 
sick  an  hour,  nor  missed  a  call  to  meals ;  have  been  hearty, 
happy,  busy,  and  contented  every  day  and  hour.  The  sun  and 
moon  have  kept  along  with  us,  —  sometimes  in  front,  sometimes 
behind  a  little  way,  —  a  ball  of  fire  by  day,  a  changing  silver 
disk  by  night.  The  nightly  stars  we  knew  so  well  at  home  came 
with  us  all  the  while,  — a  cheery,  glittering  guard  ;  and  if  at  times 
some  old  familiar  ones  were  lost  from  sight  beneath  the  ocean's 


ARABIA   AND   EGYPT.  229 

northern  rim,  full  many  a  new  one,  strangers  to  our  crisp  north- 
ern zones,  came  forth  from  southern  horizons  to  cheer  us  on 
our  way.  Now  I  know  the  world  is  round  and  fair ;  that  stars 
surround  it  everywhere  ;  that  He  who  framed  and  gemmed  the 
azure  vault,  and  set  the  sun  and  gave  the  moon  her  rounds,  was 
most  impartial.  Some  say  He  has  for  many,  many  years  been 
partial  to  His  earthly  children  here  and  there,  giving  to  some 
with  liberal  hand,  and  holding  most  of  them  in  bonds  of  dark- 
ness, sin,  and  dreary  life  and  death.  Believe  them  not.  These 
are  mostly  tales  of  egoistic  men,  and  are  as  current  and  held  in 
as  strong  conceit  among  these  pagan  hordes  as  with  the  Hebrew 
or  the  Christian. 

You  can't  avoid  being  charmed  with  Cairo.  True,  the  British 
red-coats  are  here,  self-invited,  self-imposed ;  true,  the  Arab 
army  wears  the  European  uniform  and  shoots  with  Remington 
rifles ;  true,  some  streets  and  coats  and  boots  are  of  Parisian 
style,  and  Europe  gains  apace  on  ancient  Africa ;  yet  it  is  old 
Cairo  still,  for  here  the  West  and  East  do  meet  and  mix  some- 
what, mingle  and  amalgamate,  perhaps.  But  here  is  Cairo  as 
of  yore,  with  its  crowded,  narrow,  covered  streets,  long  streets 
and  short  ones  interlaced,  —  a  perfect  labyrinth,  with  little 
bazaar  cells  like  honeycomb,  and,  like  the  comb,  well  filled  with 
valued  store. 

Here  the  blackest  of  all  blacks  meet  with  the  Circassian  race ; 
here  come  the  swarthy  Moor  and  copper-colored  casteless 
Hindu  ;  here  trades  the  Persian  with  the  Prussian  ;  and  Nubians 
bring  tusks  to  sell  for  Yankee  calicoes  and  pretty  nose  and  ankle 
rings  made  over  there  in  Birmingham.  Here  dickers  the  Ger- 
man with  the  Greek,  and  here  the  Frenchman  buys  and  sells 
with  Bagdad  men,  and  buys  much  goods  from  Delhi  and  from 
Samarcand.  The  Barb  and  Arab  horses  jostle  here  the  red- 
morocco  saddled  donkey ;  and  liveried  landaus  give  the  laden 
camel  room  to  pass.  The  languid  Turk  lives  here,  the  harem 
flourishes,  and  men  with  single  wives  are  rarities.  Here  come 
the  Paris  opera  troupes  and  German  female  music  bands ;  but 
the  audiences  are  a  sort  of  masculine  desert,  —  rarely  is  a  woman 
seen.  The  British  red-coats  are  everywhere ;  on  street  and 
square,  in  hotel,  hall,  kiosk,  or  at  evening  entertainments, 
they  come  and  fill  the  spaces.  They  may  be  here  to  stay  ;  for 
England  has  a  longing  eye  on  this  Egyptian  tract,  and  but  for 


230  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Other  powers  would  have  plucked  it  long  ago,  —  would  do  it  to- 
morrow if  she  dared.  But  there  sits  Bismarck,  there  the  French  ; 
and  farther  yet  that  horrid  Russian  bear  that  lately  made  the  lion 
hunt  his  den  at  Herat. 

It  is  a  very  busy  place,  this  grand  old  Cairo,  Avith  its  Nile  and 
palms  and  pyramids.  The  trains  and  boats  go  rushing  to  and 
fro ;  the  wealth  of  many  a  nation  centres  here.  The  roadway 
to  the  south,  the  sugar,  cotton,  grain,  and  provender  for  man 
and  beast,  must  pass  its  gates  and  pay  their  toll.  No  land 
beneath  the  sun  has  greater  wealth  of  soil  than  this  same  country 
round  about  this  noisy,  bustling,  polyglottous  people.  For  more 
than  sixty  centuries  this  self-same  land  has  been  tilled  and  not 
manured,  and  yet  its  strength  is  just  the  same  as  when  Adam 
turned  his  first  furrow  and  good  old  Mother  Eve  came  out  to 
drop  the  corn.  Not  manured,  but  enriched  in  equal  annual 
instalments,  as  Father  Nile  expands  itself  from  year  to  year,  and 
pours  its  tawny  waters  on  the  land.  Yet  are  its  plodding  people 
slaves  who  eat  the  bread  of  poverty.  They  raise  much  grain 
and  crops,  and  delve  from  year  to  year,  but  taxes  eat  almost  all. 
American  farmers  complain  of  high  taxes,  and  honestly  think 
that  the  burden  is  too  great  to  bear,  and  that  the  legislature  or 
the  supervisor  boards  should  make  the  burden  less ;  but  only 
look  at  Egypt.  For  every  hundred  dollars'  worth  these  toiling 
farmers  make,  not  two  or  three  per  cent,  not  ten  or  twenty  per 
cent,  not  forty  or  fifty  per  cent,  for  that  would  be  perfectly  satis- 
factory, but  fully  eighty  per  cent  must  go  for  rents  or  tax  !  The 
twenty  per  cent  that  is  left,  the  farmer  must  live  upon  or  die. 
There  is  no  road  tax,  either,  no  school  nor  insane  tax,  no  tax 
for  blind  or  deaf  or  dumb,  no  university  or  normal  schools  to 
keep,  no  poor-house  tax  nor  bridge  nor  court-house  tax,  but 
all  a  sweeping  simoon  tax  that  sweeps  the  earnings  of  the  land 
into  the  wide  official  maw.  You  see  the  royal  roads  and  pal- 
aces, the  harem  stock,  the  omnipresent  troops  that  loaf  about 
and  eat  the  substance  of  the  land ;  you  see  a  busy,  patriotic 
people  cramped  and  fettered,  yet  who  would  not  exchange  their 
country  and  their  lot  for  any  land  or  condition  other  countries 
have.  Shall  we  pity  them,  or  envy  them  ?  They  are  most  op- 
pressed of  nations,  yet  most  content.  Is  it  better  than  this  to 
be  the  freest  of  all  nations,  yet  most  discontented  ?  To  where 
do  these  two  paths  lead  ?     Some  day  —  some  inevitable  day  — 


ARABIA   AND  EGYPT.  23  I 

they  must  meet.  The  latter  will  find  the  former.  Discontent, 
lack  of  patriotism,  is  the  bane  of  any  people,  and  in  time  will 
work  its  ruin. 

I  have  not  been  very  busy  in  Cairo,  and  have  made  but  few 
excursions  ;  for  the  fact  is  that  in  sight-seeing  the  first  sight  is 
generally  the  best.  Only  the  pyramids  are  changeless.  They 
still  stand  out  against  the  sky,  a  mountain  miracle.  I  went  to  see 
the  Sphinx  again,  to  ask  him  for  his  story  of  this  tapering  pile 
of  stone  ;  but  he  was  too  much  preoccupied.  Indeed,  he  never 
took  his  eyes  from  the  outspread  western  map,  but  looked  above 
my  head,  —  looked  grimly  out  towards  the  far,  far  west,  as  if 
expecting  some  prince  or  power  to  come  and  deliver  all  his 
land,  and  give  back  to  Egypt  its  Pharaohs  and  its  once  prosper- 
ous times.  He  never  turns  toward  the  east.  He  knows  not 
Mecca,  nothing  knows  of  Nazareth ;  for  these  are  all  too  x\^\\. 
He  looks  not  to  the  north  or  south,  but  with  an  eager,  hopeful 
eye  and  face  looks  westward,  as  if  from  there  alone  the  light  and 
power  would  come  to  reinstate  his  native  land.  No  use  to  send 
up  word  or  card ;  he  never  notices  them.  A  crowd  of  lazy 
Bedouin  louts  —  contractors  they  said  they  were  —  were  whip- 
ping fifty  boys  and  girls  to  and  fro,  as  they  carried  little  baskets 
of  sand  away  from  the  new-made  pit  down  there  by  the  Sphinx's 
paws.  They  dug  them  out  some  years  ago,  but  the  Sphinx  in- 
voked the  western  winds  to  cover  them  again  with  drifting  sand, 
—  them  and  the  sacred  little  chapel  shrine  that  stands  between, 
which  he  has  safely  guarded  all  these  many  years.  It  seems 
almost  a  pity  to  be  digging  out  the  sand  again  ;  yet  something 
must  be  done  to  keep  people  busy.  But  I  wanted  very  much 
to  thrash  the  taskmasters  ;  for  every  time  these  litde  boys  and 
girls  came  struggling  from  the  pit,  up  through  the  running  sand  in 
which  the  foot  slipped  backward  half  the  distance,  one  of  these 
ruffians  smote  them  with  a  leather  thong  to  make  them  hurry 
on.  And  farther  on  another  burly  villain  stood  with  leathern 
switch  in  hand  to  make  them  scamper  back.  In  this  way  con- 
tract work  is  done  in  Egypt.  All  the  embankments  made  to 
hold  the  Nile  in  check,  all  railroad  fillings,  —  and  these  great 
works  are  myriad,  —  are  done  with  human  hands ;  children  and 
coolies  packing  the  dirt  in  little  baskets  on  their  heads.  Horses 
and  carts  might  be  used,  but  then  what  would  the  low-class 
people  do  to  get  their  ten  to  fifteen  cents  a  day  which  goes  to 


232  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

buy  their  daily  bread  and  cotton  drilling  shirt  ?  To  clothe  these 
people  costs  a  dollar  or  two  a  year.  To  feed  them,  say  five 
cents  a  day,  but  that  is  rather  high.  Some  greens,  a  very  little 
coarsest  bread,  some  sugar-cane  to  chew,  makes  up  the  measure 
of  the  daily  food.  You  think  this  state  of  things  severe ;  but 
have  you  never  thought,  in  your  great  land  of  peace  and  plenty, 
that  the  time  will  come  when  America  will  be  overpopulated, 
when  wages  will  fall  off  and  land  get  very  dear,  and  people  will 
fare  no  better  than  these  same  fellaheen?  To  be  as  densely 
populated  as  this  land,  Iowa  should  have  seven  hundred  and 
twenty  million  people,  instead  of  the  million  and  three  quarters 
that  she  has  now.  Figure  on  that  awhile,  and  you  will  find  no 
space  for  wages  beyond  what  are  paid  here  ;  nothing  but  huts 
to  live  in,  and  cheapest,  coarsest  sort  of  food.  But  what 's  the 
use  ?  Those  who  live  now  —  they  and  all  their  generations  — 
will  long  have  been  at  rest.  This  figuring  for  so  many  years 
to  come  is  only  tiring,  and  helps  neither  the  present  nor  the 
future. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  233 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

BIBLE   LANDS. 

From  Jaffa  to  Jerusalem.  —  Sharon,  Ajalon,  and  Ramleh.  —  Tent-Life  in 
the  Holy  Land.  —  Jerusalem  the  Golden.  —  A  Valley  of  Humiliation. 
—  Zion's  Desolation.  —  The  Chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  —  A  Place 
of  Sacred  Memories.  —  Going  up  to  Jericho.  —  The  Valley  of  Jordan.  — 
By  the  Shores  of  the  Dead  Sea.  —  The  Pengistence  of  the  Jews. — 
Jordan's  Stream  in  Poetry  and  in  Fact. — Lazarus'  Tomb,  and  some 
Reflections.  —  Gardens  of  Gethsemane.  —  A  Bit  of  Monastery  Life. — 
The  Fictions  of  Sacred  Places. 

OUR  tents  are  pitched  at  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  nigh  unto 
the  Jaffa  Gate  ;  we  look  upon  these  sacred  hills,  —  Zion, 
Moriah,  and  the  overlooking  Mount  of  Olives.  At  our  feet  is 
the  lovely  vale  of  Hinnom,  decked  with  fields  and  gardens, 
marked  with  walls  and  pools,  and  dotted  with  fruitful  olive- 
trees.  We  rest  here  for  some  days,  with  now  and  then  ex- 
cursions round  about.  Our  party  now  is  four,  —  a  Philadelphian 
and  his  wife  out  on  their  wedding  tour,  the  colonel,  and  my- 
self, —  two  Catholics,  one  Presbyterian,  and  a  Christian ;  each 
one  intent  on  spying  out  the  things  which  pertain  to  the  an- 
tiquities of  this  much-cited,  much-abused  old  Jewish  town  and 
the  places  that  surround  it. 

But,  to  begin  with,  don't  think  to  hear  new  things.  There  is 
not  a  road  from  here  to  Christendom,  not  a  hill  or  vale,  mount 
or  plain,  not  a  wall  or  tomb  or  church  or  house  or  street,  — 
nothing  that  has  not  been  written  up,  measured  with  scriptural 
texts,  explained  a  hundred  thousand  times  by  men  of  books,  by 
the  pulpit  to  the  pews ;  discussed  in  Bible-class  from  year  to 
year ;  explained  by  parson,  superintendent,  teachers  in  the 
Sunday-schools ;  discussed  and  settled,  settled  and  discussed, 
by  commentators  and  specialists  in  Bible  lore,  until  the  Chris- 
tian world,  at  least,  knows  everything  there  is  to  know  about  it. 
What  then  can  you  expect,  you  who  have  been  so  many  times 
on  Sunday  excursions  to  these  gates  and  walls,  to  Bethlehem 


234  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  Bethany,  to  Jordan's  stormy  banks  to  stand  with  wishful 
eyes,  —  what  can  I  do  to  make  the  sights  and  scenes  more 
bright  and  clear?  Nothing.  But  how  do  people  get  here? 
This  may  be  of  interest,  as  some  of  you  may  some  day  make 
this  long  and  weary  pilgrimage. 

There  are  several  ways  to  do  it.  The  first  requisites  are  money 
and  a  will  to  go.  Then,  if  you  don't  feel  able  to  go  alone  or 
in  some  independent  way,  you  put  your  money  and  yourself  in 
some  contractors'  hands,  and  they  will  mix  you  up  with  a  pro- 
miscuous lot  of  other  pious  pilgrims,  and  put.  you  through  on 
stated  speed  and  time,  regardless  quite  of  wind  or  weather. 
Very  many  go  that  way ;  some  are  glad,  some  mad.  But  you 
can  go  by  yourselves,  —  you  and  the  party  of  friends  made  up 
at  home,  —  and  any  of  these  contractors  will  take  your  money, 
provide  a  dragoman  and  all  the  outfit  you  may  need,  and  send 
you  through  alone  in  right  good  style.  Or  you  may  take  no 
thought  of  them,  but  come  straight  on  alone  to  Jaffa,  call  on 
Rolla  Floyd,  the  Maine  Yankee  contractor,  who  has  lived  there 
twenty  years  and  has  a  cosey  sort  of  a  New  England  home  to 
which  he  will  take  you  and  make  you  very  comfortable  indeed, 
then  go  with  you  through  Palestine  or  Syria,  or  down  to  Egypt, 
—  where  you  like,  —  or  send  a  good  guide  with  you.  We  took 
an  independent  dragoman  in  Cairo,  —  Louis  Monsour,  a  famous 
Syrian  of  Beirut,  —  got  our  tents  and  made  arrangements  there, 
and  then  came  on  to  Jaffa. 

You  cannot  always  land  at  Jaffa.  The  poor  old  place  where 
Noah  built  his  ark  has  no  harbor;  never  had  any;  and  in 
stormy  or  windy  weather  the  waves  make  such  a  stir  along 
the  dangerous  front  that  not  a  landing  boat  can  live.  But  we 
landed  safely  from  the  Russian  ship,  —  we  and  some  hun- 
dred Christian  Russian  pilgrims,  packed  and  frowzy,  bound  for 
Palestine.  The  Russian  is  the  most  devout  of  pilgrims.  His 
Church  has  many  holy  places  here,  more  than  any  other ;  and 
here  he  comes  in  flocks  and  herds  to  worship  at  the  tombs  and 
shrines.  It  costs  him  very  little,  and  on  reaching  here  he 
finds  a  hospice  home  provided  for  him  by  his  Government. 
No  Christian  Government  takes  so  much  pains  to  help  its  pil- 
grims as  Russia  does.  The  British  do  a  good  deal  in  this  way 
to  help  their  Indo-Moslem  subjects  on  to  Mecca,  but  nothing 
that  I   hear  of  is  done   for  Christian   travellers  to   the   Holy 


BIBLE  LANDS.  235 

Sepulchre.  This  is  not  strange,  either ;  for  the  pious  pilgrim 
sentiment  that  many  years  ago  had  such  a  hold  on  Roman 
Catholic  and  Protestant  people  has  largely  faded  out,  and 
few  there  are  who  now  are  self-impelled  to  go  to  Palestine. 
With  the  Greek  Catholics  and  Moslems,  these  pilgrimages  to 
their  holy  central  shrines  mean  almost  everything. 

We  came  on  to  Jerusalem  a  week  ago,  —  down  through  the 
land  of  Goshen  ;  along,  maybe,  the  very  path  the  fleeing  Jews 
once  trod,  to  find  a  promised  land ;  along  the  sweet  canal  and 
past  the  bloody  battle-fields  of  Zagazig  and  Tel  el  Kabir,  where 
the  British  troops  met  Arabi ;  then  steaming  up  the  great  Suez 
canal  from  new  Ismailia,  came  to  Port  Said,  the  fortunate  guests 
of  Mr.  John  Cook,  in  his  private  launch.  We  landed  in  time 
to  get  some  sleep  and  see  the  frowzy  town,  and  go  on  board 
the  Russian  vessel  that  was  to  set  us  down  at  Jaffa.  Jaffa  is  the 
ancient  Joppa.  The  word  means  "beautiful."  It  is  the  prin- 
cipal port  of  Palestine.  Here  Noah  built  his  ark  ;  here  Hiram 
sent  his  rafts  of  cedar  logs  that  Solomon  bought  with  land 
and  slaves  to  roof  his  Temple  with.  It  is  an  ancient-looking 
town  ;  yet  not  a  stone  rests  where  it  did  when  Jonah  came 
here  to  sail  for  Tarshish,  or  Saint  Paul  came  unto  the  tanner's 
house.  In  fact,  there  are  older  houses  in  Boston  than  in  Jaffa. 
Time  and  again  has  it  been  blown  up  by  warring  powers,  pulled 
down,  wiped  out,  then  built  up  again,  till  not  an  old-time  wall  or 
house  remains.  The  ancient  castle  leaves  a  mark  among  the 
angry  waves  ;  the  rock  from  which  fair  Andromeda  was  un- 
chained and  saved  from  the  monster's  maw  by  gallant  Perseus 
yet  withstands  the  sea ;  the  inner  harbor  of  King  Solomon, 
where  he  kept  some  little  ships  and  received  the  rafts  of  cedar 
logs,  is  now  almost  filled  up  and  long  unused  ;  the  house  where 
Simon  the  tanner  lived,  and  Saint  Paul  slept,  has  passed  away. 
But,  for  all  that,  the  site  is  shown  in  a  dirty,  narrow  street,  and 
that  is  quite  as  well.  It  is  a  goodly  site,  with  a  fine  view  of  the 
sea  and  part  of  the  Sharon  vale.  The  place  has  some  twenty 
thousand  people. 

From  Jaffa  went  forth  Jonah  in  a  ship  to  be  swallowed  by  an 
unfortunate  whale ;  and  forth  from  here  —  so  the  churchly 
legend  runs  —  sailed  Lazarus  in  a  boat  along  with  Mary  and 
Martha,  Magdalenes,  to  safely  land  in  Southern  France,  where 
they    converted    many   a    sinful    pagan    and    founded    many  a 


236  A    GIRDLE  ROUND   THE  EARTH. 

Christian  church.  But  this  was  long  ago.  The  streets  and  shops 
are  far  from  pleasing  now ;  the  walls  are  torn  down,  the  bazaars 
dark  and  poor.  About  the  city,  on  the  borders  of  the  lovely 
Sharon  vale,  are  many  noble  gardens,  fenced  about  with  enor- 
mous cactus-trees.  I  call  them  trees,  for  the  trunks  of  some 
we  saw  were  fully  six  feet  round.  The  orange  and  lemon  fruit- 
age here  is  a  sight.  The  trees  were  thick  and  heavily  laden 
with  most  luscious  fruit,  gleaming  like  globes  of  gold  among  the 
dark-green  leaves  —  oranges  in  clusters  of  eight  and  ten  and 
twelve,  the  largest,  fairest,  most  delicious  of  fruit.  Here  grow 
the  sweet  lemons,  —  a  large,  fair  fruit,  in  color,  shape,  and  habit 
like  the  common  sort,  but  without  the  least  acidity.  The  soil 
is  very  rich  and  quite  productive  all  about  the  town,  and  people 
seem  to  hve  and  die  Uke  other  folks.  We  visited  Miss  Arnott's 
Dorcas  mission  school,  and  found  her  Syrian  girls  quite  busy, 
some  at  their  books,  some  at  their  needlework,  or  other  useful 
duties.  This  good  woman  is  attached  to  no  mission  board,  but 
planted  her  school  here  independently  some  twenty  years  ago, 
and  picks  up  little  girls,  teaches  them,  guides  them,  —  is  a 
mother,  sister,  friend,  and  prepares  for  wifely  duties  full  many 
a  pagan  waif,  and  does  great  good.  The  venture  was  suc- 
cessful from  the  start ;  a  fine  building,  neatly  furnished,  has 
arisen  by  the  magic  of  friendly  sympathy  and  admiration  of  a 
noble  woman's  work.  The  girls  must  needs  marry  at  the 
proper  age,  and  must  needs  marry  heathen  husbands ;  but 
while  some  drift  into  other  ways,  the  average  result  is  excellent. 
Our  cavalcade  was  ready  next  morning.  Five  white  sprightly 
Syrian  saddle-horses,  with  ornamented  bridles,  silky  manes 
and  tails  half  dyed  in  saffron  ;  six  baggage-mules,  with  tents  and 
trunks  and  cooking  traps,  and  stores  of  bread  and  meats  and 
fruits ;  one  sumpter  mule,  with  luncheon  and  jugs  of  water 
to  serv^e  us  at  our  midday  rest,  while  the  tents  and  beds  and 
furniture  were  to  go  straight  along  without  a  stop  to  the  more 
distant  camping  ground.  We  moved  away  at  half-past  nine, 
and  leaving  the  streets  and  garden  places  far  behind,  went  forth 
into  the  lovely  Sharon  vale,  among  the  fields  of  growing  grass  and 
wheat ;  among  the  farmers  ploughing  with  the  same  old  plough 
that  Moses'  people  used  ;  out  among  pretty  slopes  besprinkled 
with  bright  flowers,  —  a  glorious  scene  upon  a  glorious  morning. 
To  the  right  of  us,  not  far  away,  looked  forth  the  hungry  desert, 


BIBLE  LANDS.  237 

its  heated  sands  threatening  to  approach  and  swallow  up  this 
lovely  region  with  its  happy  fields  and  homes.  For  several 
hours  we  rode  along  a  ^Yell-kept  carriage-road,  traversing  fields 
and  pastures,  meeting  the  laden  donkey,  the  slow-paced  swaying 
camel,  taking  their  loads  to  town  ;  past  laboring  men  and  wo- 
men and  boys  and  girls  afield  in  various  occupations,  —  husband 
and  wife  planting  their  crop  or  pulling  weeds,  as  happy,  to  all 
appearance,  as  any  people. 

The  forenoon  ride  took  us  through  the  Sharon  vale  into  that 
of  Ajalon,  and  at  Ramleh  we  stopped  within  an  ancient  wall, 
close  by  a  lofty  Saracenic  tower,  to  sit  within  the  friendly  shade 
of  a  low  stone  arch  and  eat  our  first  day's  lunch  and  rub  away 
the  numbness  from  limbs  unused  to  the  saddle.  The  ruined 
walls  about  enclose  some  acres'  space,  with  ruined  arches  and 
subterranean  vaults,  with  hints  of  cloister,  kahn,  and  cistern 
wells  of  mosque  or  church  of  Saracenic  days.  Suppose  we  mount 
this  buttressed  tower  and  use  its  eyes  awhile  and  see  what  it 
has  been  looking  at  a  thousand  years  or  so.  The  steps  are  very 
old  and  deeply  worn  and  flanked  with  many  a  niche  and  win- 
dow loop.  The  upper  stair  is  circular  and  made  of  porous 
marble,  and  leads  to  a  rather  spacious  and  unguarded  landing 
in  the  open  air.  The  view  is  glorious.  Look  1  There  are  the 
vales  of  Sharon  and  of  lovely  Ajalon,  with  dirty  Ramleh  near  at 
hand,  then  broad,  bright  fields,  with  waving  green  and  darker 
patchwork  shades  of  sturdy  olive  orchards,  with  thrifty  farm 
scenes  far  and  near  framed  in  by  desert  sands,  the  blue  and 
barren  Judsean  mountains,  and  the  bright  blue  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Off  there  are  Jaffa  and  long-lost  Lydda ;  old 
Ashdod  in  the  distance ;  and  over  there  are  Askalon  and  Gath, 
and  to  the  south  is  Gaza.  Westward  again,  you  see  the  Sama- 
rian  mountains,  and  Caesarea  in  the  north  ;  and  farther  on  are 
Jamsee,  Ajalon,  and  Latrun.  Here  within  our  sight  fought 
Joshua,  beneath  a  patiently  waiting  sun  that  once,  they  say, 
stood  still  above  those  distant  flowery  fields  to  give  the  Israel- 
ites good  time  to  kill  the  Amoritish  men  who  dared  defend 
their  wives  and  homes.  Along  that  road  toiled  the  lumber 
teams  of  Solomon,  and  stores  of  stuff  from  Ophir  and  from 
Egypt ;  here  tramped  the  armed  Pharaonic  troops  and  those  of 
many  a  Caesar ;  down  this  way  came  heavy-hearted  Hebrew 
captives  trudging  on  to  Memphis  or  to  Rome,  to  grace  a  Roman 


238  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

triumph,  to  die  in  Roman  fields  and  quarries  and  arenas.  Here 
passed  the  temple's  sacred  robes  and  screens  and  vessels,  and 
the  seven-branched  candlestick,  no  more  to  pass  the  Judaean 
hills ;  here  with  crushed  spirit  came  the  Amazonian  queen, 
the  fierce  and  fair  Zenobia,  Queen  of  Palmyra,  terror  of  Phi- 
listia,  to  spend  her  captive  life  in  Rome ;  here,  too,  in  later 
days,  came  stern  and  fearless  Peter  on  his  new-found  mission, 
preaching  Christ  and  confronting  pagans ;  here  in  these  fields 
the  same  plough  turns  the  shallow  furrow,  and  tawny  Arab  girls 
go  gleaning  among  the  reapers,  —  the  modern  Ruths  in  Boaz's 
fields  ;  and  over  there  at  Gaza,  Samson  carried  off  the  brazen 
gates  of  the  fierce  Philistine  city,  the  city  fair  which  a  Pharaoh 
gave  unto  his  daughter  when  Solomon  added  an  Egyptian  prin- 
cess to  his  already  lengthy  list  of  comely  wives.  These  and 
countless  other  scenes  crowd  in  upon  the  mind  while  standing 
here  atop  this  old-time  tower  from  which  the  views  are  so  de- 
lightful, which  you  so  regretfully  leave  behind. 

The  afternoon  was  passed  along  the  road  that  leads  to  the 
Judsean  mountains.  We  see  more  fields,  more  people  toiling 
in  them,  more  camel  trains  and  watch-towers  by  the  way ;  then 
we  reach  stony  ground,  and  getting  more  and  more  without  the 
plain  of  Ajalon,  we  come  to  Latrun  and  to  our  first  night's 
camping  place.  Our  tents  are  up,  our  dinner  cooking,  the 
burden-mules  are  grazing  near  dark  Bedouin  tents,  the  sun  goes 
down  beyond  the  distant  sea,  as  we  alight  to  eat  and  rest. 

Would  you  see  our  outfit  ?  Two  fine  new  round  wall  tents, 
lined  with  picturesque  needlework,  with  rather  pretty  floral 
scenes  and  clean  mosaic-work.  Our  beds  are  made.  The 
bedsteads  are  of  light  wrought  iron,  made  to  fold  and  pack ; 
the  mattresses  and  snowy  linen  sheets  and  pillowcases  are  cov- 
ered with  soft  warm  woollen  blankets.  We  have  a  table,  cane- 
seat  chairs,  and  camping  stools,  with  hooks  to  hang  our  clothes 
on,  wash-bowls  and  pitchers,  —  everything  for  comfort.  Another 
spacious  tent  contains  our  stores  and  holds  the  pantry  stock 
and  table-ware.  The  cooking-stove  stands  out  in  front  where 
good  old  Abou  Nokleh,  famous  Syrian  cook,  is  wrestling  with 
the  pots  and  pans  and  cooking  things.  Dinner  is  served  at 
half-past  six.  Sit  down  with  us.  Observe  our  table-ware  :  our 
spotless  damask,  real  china  plates,  with  silver  service  and  brightly 
polished  silver  knives.     These  silver  spoons  and  gold-rimmed 


BIBLE  LANDS.  239 

cut-glass  tumblers  are  rather  jaunty  out  here  in  the  Arab  wilds, 
with  crystal  carafe,  and  light  thin  china  cups  for  tea.  Nothing 
is  too  good  for  pilgrims ;  our  bright  new  tents  are  floored  with 
Persian  rugs,  and  clean  soft  beds  and  well-provided  table  ;  these 
are  the  compensations  of  our  days  of  toil.  Every  dish  is  a 
perfect  one.  Louis  Monsour,  our  worthy  dragoman,  and  Sol- 
omon the  servant  serve  the  table  well.  The  service  and  the 
food  quite  take  us  by  surprise,  so  far  do  they  surpass  in  excel- 
lence the  usual  hotel  accommodations.  We  eat  beneath  our 
cosey  tent,  which  flies  the  stars  and  stripes,  fold  our  napkins  and 
place  them  in  broad  silver  rings,  sip  the  celestial  mokka  from 
the  tiniest  china  cups,  light  our  pipes,  recline  on  chairs  or  couch, 
and  talk  and  smoke,  while  the  same  stars  that  you  see  every 
night  at  home  look  down  upon  us  wandering  ones ;  while  the 
jackals  and  rich-toned  Syrian  donkeys,  which  you  don't  hear 
every  night,  chant  forth  their  vigorous  vespers.  Our  chatting 
and  smoking  ended,  our  baggage  is  piled  about  the  tent  pole, 
and  through  the  handle  of  each  piece  is  passed  a  small  iron 
chain,  with  padlock  and  bells.  This  is  to  baffle  the  thievish 
Bedouin.  Our  beds  are  then  moved  away  from  the  tent  walls, 
to  keep  the  thieves  from  lugging  off  our  blankets  or  ourselves. 
Then  the  watch  is  set,  our  tent  doors  are  buttoned  up,  the 
lights  are  blown  out,  and  off  we  float  into  the  land  of  sleep  and 
dreams. 

The  morning  comes,  and  brings  us  Abou  with  his  water-jugs, 
his  towels,  and  breakfast ;  the  tents  are  folded  up  and  placed 
upon  the  loud-belled,  patient  mules,  and  mounting  our  steeds 
again  we  push  on  for  the  city  of  David.  We  find  mountain, 
rocks,  and  barrenness,  nearly  all  the  way.  At  Kirjeth-Jarem 
we  looked  in  upon  a  deserted  Christian  church  of  the  middle 
centuries,  which  the  Moslem  turned  into  a  spacious  stable ; 
we  stood  beneath  its  water-dripping  vault,  climbed  down  into  its 
mouldy  crypt,  and  finding  there  no  echo  of  the  past,  no  tomb 
or  graven  word  or  monument,  we  slowly  rode  out  through 
the  olive  orchard,  past  the  men  who,  Yankee-like,  were  piling 
up  stone  wall,  then  on  along  the  road  the  Roman  legions 
trod,  past  Soba,  old  home  of  the  Maccabees,  and  on  through 
the  desolation,  reheved  only  here  and  there  by  single  or  several 
olive  or  fig  trees ;  down  into  the  valley  where  flows  a  rainy- 
season  stream,  where  David  found  the  rocks  with  which  he  slew 


240  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Goliath;  and  at  Ain  Dilb,  a  wayside  Arab  coffee-shop,  we 
stopped  to  eat  our  noonday  lunch.  It  had  rained  a  little  on 
the  way,  —  a  gusty  sort  of  rain,  that  laid  the  dust ;  and  having 
climbed  another  mountain  ridge  and  toiled  along  the  stony  way 
they  call  a  carriage-road,  we  came  at  three  o'clock  in  sight  of 
the  walls  of  old  Jerusalem. 

As  to  Jerusalem,  —  all  have  heard  of  it,  some  have  seen  it,  and 
no  one  will  expect  much  that  is  new  concerning  it.  You  know 
that  it  is  a  very  old  place,  —  was  hoary  with  age  and  wickedness 
when  David  captured  it  from  the  heathen ;  you  know  that  it  has 
been  captured  since  and  sacked  for  plunder  nearly  forty  times  ; 
that  thirteen  times  or  more  its  temples,  houses,  synagogues,  and 
walls  have  been  torn  down  and  scattered  here  and  there ;  that 
several  times  its  inhabitants  have  been  brought  forth  in  droves, 
and,  like  the  herds  upon  the  hills,  driven  forth  to  bondage  ;  you 
know  its  site  has  been  sown  with  salt  and  none  allowed  to  live 
upon  its  holy  hills ;  you  know  that  it  has  been  made  a  den  for 
wolves,  and  that  goats  have  fed  upon  the  herbage  round  about, 
and  jackals  had  their  holes  where  once  the  girls  of  Israel  sang 
and  Judah's  sons  arrayed  themselves  for  worship  or  for  war ; 
you  know  that  they  who  lived  here  were  God's  chosen  people, 
—  so  the  Bible  says  ;  that  when  they  were  rather  good  the  Lord 
gave  unto  them  peace  and  rest  and  length  of  years ;  and  when 
they  turned  aside  into  those  ways  in  which  the  wicked  tread, 
the  Gentile  and  Philistine  came,  even  the  Egyptian,  Persian,  and 
Assyrian  hosts,  and  drove  them  forth  like  sheep.  No  city  has  been 
more  extolled,  none  more  besieged ;  none  more  lifted  up,  none 
made  more  desolate.  And  here  I  am  to-day  looking  about, 
trying  to  get  some  clew  to  what  the  city  was  in  David's  day,  and 
what  it  was  in  Herod's  time,  and  what  it  was  when  the  bright 
Golden  Gate  was  strewn  with  palms,  and  Jesus  entered  in  to 
claim  his  right,  but  came  to  be  reviled  and  spat  upon,  to  be 
derided,  crowned  with  thorns,  and  suffer  death  upon  a  convict's 
cross. 

Let  us  take  a  quiet  look  about,  and  try  and  get  some  under- 
standing of  the  place.  Of  course  we  shall  make  many  a  blunder 
as  to  time  and  place  and  circumstance  ;  but  some  things  we  can 
do  to  pass  a  morning  hour.  Before  we  enter  in  let  us  look  about 
awhile.  This  is  the  Jaffa  Gate ;  below,  in  front  of  us,  is  the 
lovely,  narrow,  rock-rifted,  olive-planted  Hinnom  vale,  half  filled 


BIBLE  LANDS.  24 1 

with  city  rubbish  emptied  here  in  all  these  myriad  years.  Down 
in  the  gulch  is  Hezekiah's  Pool,  or,  as  some  say,  the  Pool  of 
Solomon,  made  there  by  throwing  a  strong  wall  or  dam  across 
the  narrow  vale  to  stop  the  waters  for  summer  use,  when  all  the 
hills  were  dry  and  parched.  Beyond  the  vale  are  walls  and 
hills  and  many  a  modern  dwelling,  and  a  long  hospice  row 
erected  there  by  noble  Moses  ISIontefiore,  —  a  home  for  He- 
brew pilgrims  who  might  come  journeying  here  to  see  their 
fathers'  home  and  weep  here  at  the  remnant  temple  walls, 
praying,  amid  their  groans  and  tears,  for  the  time  to  come 
when  God  again  should  call  His  people  back,  and  rear  again 
His  earthly  throne  upon  Moriah's  mount. 

Let  us  take  a  walk.  The  city  is  not  large,  the  walls  not 
very  long ;  suppose  we  pass  them  on  our  left,  and  see  how 
long  it  takes  to  come  back  again.  The  way  about  the  walls 
is  first  by  the  well-made  modern  road  that  leads  to  Bethle- 
hem, by  the  deep  dry  moat,  and  by  the  rim  of  Hinnom  vale ; 
then  by  a  donkey- path  it  takes  the  left,  now  up,  now  down, 
now  by  the  burying-ground,  past  Gihon  pool,  and  by  old  dung 
gate  and  older  stones ;  now  skirting  Kedron  vale,  and  then 
Gehenna's  gulch ;  then  by  a  narrow  footpath,  past  the  garden 
patches,  past  old  knotted  and  gnarled  olive-trees  ;  past  Siloam's 
pool,  and  mud  houses  clinging  to  the  dreary,  blistered  crags ; 
past  the  towering  walls  and  past  the  Golden  Gate  ;  skirting  the 
valley  of  Jehosaphat,  with  his  rock  tomb,  and  that  of  Absalom 
and  Zachariah  ;  past  the  St.  Stephen  Gate,  that  gives  a  view  of 
sad  Gethsemane  and  Olivet ;  then  among  the  Moslem  graves 
and  tombs  where  waiting  women  sit  and  mourn  their  dead  ; 
past  the  Damascus  Gate,  in  view  of  Jeremiah's  cave,  where  erst 
he  sat  so  many  recluse  years  and  pondered  o'er  the  past,  and 
prophesied  of  future  woes ;  then  past  more  walls  and  heaps 
of  rubbish,  stones,  and  aged  olive-trees  that  have  seen  the 
tears  and  heard  the  sighs  of  centuries ;  then,  past  the  village 
of  the  leprous  ones,  we  come  back  to  the  modern  homes  and 
streets,  and  on  a  modern  pavement  by  a  lot  of  modern  traders' 
shops  we  stand  by  Jaffa  Gate  again.  Look  at  your  watch  : 
not  quite  sixty  minutes  since  we  stood  here  before ;  yet  we 
have  compassed  all  these  walls  about,  been  clear  around  the 
present  Jewish  city,  which  now  is  twice  as  large  as  it  was 
when  the  Saviour  died  on  Calvary.     Now  these  walls  are  two 

16 


242  A    GIRDLE  ROUA^D    THE  EARTH. 

miles  and  a  half  about ;  then  perhaps  a  fraction  more  than 
one,  —  a  city  built  upon  a  walled  space,  with  Zion's  Hill, 
Moriah,  all  its  temples,  houses,  streets,  about  the  size  of  six 
modern  city  blocks  !  Such  was  the  magnitude  of  the  great 
city  of  David,  —  a  mere  speck  upon  this  Judsean  mountain 
range ;  a  barren  place  amid  more  barren  places ;  a  city  with- 
out sewerage,  gas,  or  aqueducts  ;  without  streets  where  car- 
riage wheels  could  roll ;  merely  a  hornet's  nest  hanging  to  a 
rock,  an  eagle's  nest  among  the  mountain  crags ;  and  yet,  for 
so  the  sacred  story  runs,  the  only  home  on  earth  of  Him  who 
made  the  world  and  set  the  sun  and  stars  above.  The  story 
must  be  true,  for  it  is  vouched  for  by  many  millions  of  Chris- 
tians and  Moslems.  And  more  than  this,  within  the  sanctuary 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  is  that  well-preserved  and  much-revered 
stone  that  in  the  olden  time  and  now  marks  the  very  centre 
of  this  great  flat  world. 

But  let  us  pass  the  gate  and  step  within  —  within  Jerusalem. 
How  your  blood  tingles  !  How  your  nerves  play  !  The  very 
senses  throb  as  you  come  in  where  David  came,  and  stand  upon 
the  place  where  stood  the  priests  and  prophet  men  of  old  ; 
where  stood  and  taught  the  Saviour  of  the  world  ;  where  stood 
the  Jewish  kings,  and  those  who  came  with  fire  and  sword  and 
dragged  them  forth  to  grace  the  Assyrian  or  Roman  holiday. 
You  are  within  the  walls  that  surround  the  centre  of  the 
world  ;  within  the  city  unto  which  all  Christendom  bows  low ; 
upon  the  spot  whence  Mahomet  mounted  to  the  courts  of 
heaven ;  upon  the  spot  of  the  great  Christian  world's  most 
hallowed  associations.  Near  by  is  the  great  Jewish  temple's 
site,  where  God  was  pleased  to  come  and  sit  within  the  holiest 
of  holy  places ;  where  He  sent  down  His  heavenly  fire  to  burn  the 
altar-offerings  at  the  dedication  day. 

But  it  is  the  city  of  God  no  more.  As  we  came  in  you 
noticed  that  bearded  Turk  standing  at  the  gate,  with  uniform 
and  cimeter;  you  saw  the  star  and  crescent  on  the  gate. 
You  came  here  only  by  permission  of  the  Moslem  infidel. 
City  of  David  no  more,  though  the  great  draughted  stones  of 
David's  house  range  up  before  you.  No  more  the  city  of 
Baldwin  or  the  Crusade  knights,  nor  of  the  Christian  world, 
save  by  permission  of  the  turbaned  Turk.  Where  is  the  Chris- 
tian  world  —  where    sleep   in   sloth   the    Christian   kings   and 


BIBLE  LANDS.  243 

princes,  all  the  Christian  liosts  —  that  they  permit  themselves 
to  stoop  beneath  the  Moslem  rod  on  coming  to  this  spot? 
Shade  of  Peter  the  Hermit  and  the  Crusade  hosts  !  why  stands 
it  so  to-day,  while  in  the  grasp  of  Christian  men  and  kings 
rests  most  of  human  might?  Think  you,  if  rested  here  the 
Kaaba  stone  and  ashes  of  Mahomet,  and  swarthy  Moslems 
held  the  conquering  sword,  that  they  would  stoop  beneath  the 
Christian  crook  to  enter  in? 

Well,  we  will  go  beyond  the  gates  and  pace  the  streets  of 
David  and  his  generations.  For  ten  or  twenty  rods  we  find 
them  fairly  good.  A  carriage  might  come  in  to  that  extent, 
not  more.  The  street  that  leads  still  farther  on  is  steep 
and  narrow.  Follow  it ;  come  down  the  dirty,  slippery  stone. 
Take  heed  here  lest  you  fall.  The  lining  shops  are  low  and 
small,  and  reek  with  noisome  odors.  But  come  along ;  yet 
mind  the  mud  and  filth,  —  it  thickens  every  step.  The  crowd 
of  hurrying  people  chokes  up  the  way ;  so  do  the  donkeys, 
laden  with  goods  and  city  sculch  and  filth,  that  graze  your 
raiment.  We  give  it  up.  The  mud  and  filth  increase  at  every 
step.  Our  boots  are  wet  and  foul,  our  clothes  are  splashed 
with  filthy  mire.  Enough  of  this  ;  we  turn  about,  retrace  our 
dubious  steps,  and  hunt  another  street,  —  the  one  called 
Christian. 

This  Christian  street  —  there  's  nothing  in  a  name  —  is  a 
valley  of  humiliation,  —  wet,  muddy,  filthy  still,  and  paved  with 
random  rocks  that  hurt  your  feet  clear  through  thick  leather 
soles.  The  shops  are  low  and  very  badly  kept ;  the  windows 
dirty ;  floors  and  walls  a  crying,  muddy  shame ;  the  whole  a 
den  of  desolation.  Ambitious  tradesmen  beck  and  call  you  in. 
They  shout  their  wares,  and  tell  of  photographs  for  sale,  and 
things  of  olive-wood ;  swing  rosaries  before  your  face,  and 
flaunt  tlie  crucifix  as  though  they  dealt  in  herrings.  But  you 
have  little  care  to  look  above  your  feet,  lest  they  should  slip 
and  let  you  down.  Disgusted  at  every  step,  you  turn  not  to 
the  right  to  seek  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  but  take  the  left  and 
climb  for  higher  land  and  dryer  soil. 

And  this  is  Jerusalem.  The  thrill  you  felt  at  coming  through 
the  gate  is  gone.  Gone  is  the  exaltation,  the  pious  thought,  the 
sentiment  that  captured  you  withal ;  gone  are  your  hopes  of 
peace  and  thoughtful  rest  within  these  time-stained  walls,  as 


244  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

back  you  take  your  way  to  your  hotel  without  the  walls  to  gain 
your  room,  where  you  invoke  a  fire  to  warm  yourself  before, 
scrape  off  the  mud,  and  dry  your  well-wet  boots.  "Jerusalem, 
my  happy  home  ;  name  ever  dear  to  me  !  "  —  perhaps  in  fancy, 
as  we  go  through  its  streets  and  see  its  shrines  while  sitting  in 
our  soft  arm-chairs  at  home  ;  but  here  we  pause  and  reflect. 
To-morrow  we  may  have  courage  to  try  again. 

Without  the  city  walls  are  many  modern  buildings,  —  hotels 
and  hospitals,  offices  of  the  government,  and  many  a  pretty 
private  house  and  shop.  All  these  have  been  built  within  a 
score  of  years  ;  ambitious  Jews  have  sent  some  money  here  to 
help  on  this  revival  work,  to  help  renew  the  city's  life ;  ambi- 
tious churches  make  a  show  of  enterprise,  one  vying  with  the 
other ;  and  hopeful  hotel-keepers  seek  to  thrive  upon  the 
tourist's  purse.  Outside  the  gates  the  city  is  looking  up  again. 
Within  —  well,  you  know  my  opinion  of  the  place. 

The  Hebrew  seeks  the  Wailing  Wall  and  mourns  in  open  air 
the  desolation  of  Zion.  The  Moslem  makes  prostrate  prayer 
in  Omar's  grand  old  mosque,  where  rests  the  rocky  crest  where 
Abraham  would  have  slain  his  son,  where  Mahomet  passed  from 
earth  to  heaven  ;  the  Christian  turns  his  steps  to  Calvary  and 
offers  orisons  within  the  Chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  We 
will  go  out  to  see  this  latter  place.  The  streets  have  not  dried 
up  from  last  night's  rain.  We  pass  the  gate ;  salute  the  mar- 
tial Turk ;  pass  David's  house,  now  a  place  of  soldiery,  with 
worthless  old  rusty  cannon  at  the  battlemented  top ;  pass 
through  the  lines  of  hucksters'  shops,  past  mangy  donkeys 
bearing  mud  and  filth  and  baskets  filled  with  garden  truck 
and  oranges  ;  past  Jew  and  Gentile,  Turk  and  Bedouin ;  past 
men  with  unshorn  locks  and  women  thickly  veiled  ;  past  men 
who  shout  their  wares,  and  monks  and  mud  and  mire  ;  picking 
our  penitential  way  along  the  slippery  rocks  and  sloppy  Chris- 
tian street ;  then,  turning  to  the  right,  we  pass  down  a  short  and 
narrow  street  and  come  into  the  open  space  —  garnished  with 
much  pedlers'  stuff —  fronting  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

The  facade  of  the  edifice  is  rather  lofty,  time-worn,  melan- 
choly. One  portal — that  one  on  the  right  —  has  been  walled 
up,  marring  the  effect ;  giving  an  unsatisfactory  feeling,  as  though 
the  influx  here  of  worshippers  had  lately  fallen  off,  and  one  door 


BIBLE  LANDS.  245 

was  deemed  enough  for  such  as  now  might  come.  This  o]:)en 
door  is  flanked  on  either  side  with  triple  columns  of  antique 
marble.  The  three  upon  the  left  are  often  kissed,  the  middle  one 
the  oftenest.  It  has  an  ugly  crack  adown  the  shaft ;  and  from 
this  rift,  in  the  last  day,  when  all  shall  reappear  upon  the  earth 
to  stand  before  the  fateful  Judge,  shall  flash  that  sacred  flame 
which  shall  consume  this  sinful  earth  and  light  afresh  the  lurid 
fires  of  Lucifer.  This  is  the  story  of  the  cloven  column  which 
so  many  men  and  women  —  mostly  women  —  clasp  and  kiss, 
until  their  close-pressed  lips  have  worn  away  and  polished  deep 
the  cold  gray  stone.  Just  why  this  waste  of  deep  affection,  it  is 
rather  hard  to  guess.  But  kissing  here  seems  to  be  a  passion 
all  around.  The  beggars  catch  and  kiss  your  hands,  or  kneel  and 
kiss,  your  boots ;  the  worshipful  fall  down  and  kiss  the  floors 
where  patriarchs  have  walked ;  the  children  kiss  the  pavements. 
The  women  sometimes  brush  away  the  dust  before  the  labial 
touch  ;  but  most  will  kiss  the  stone,  the  boards,  the  carpeting 
—  these,  or  the  plates  of  brass  that  tell  where  something  has 
been  said  or  done  or  dropped  —  without  a  rub  or  brush. 

But  the  left-hand  door  of  the  temple  of  the  Sepulchre  is 
open ;  we  will  enter  there.  Who  opens  now  and  shuts  this 
door?  Who  admits  this  crowd  of  pious  ones  —  these  Latins, 
Greeks,  Armenians,  Protestants  —  within  the  clumsy  wooden 
gates  ?  The  turbaned  Turk.  The  Moslem  holds  the  key  and 
opens  when  he  may.  If  you  come  before  his  time  you  may 
await  his  will.  If  you  stop  within  too  long,  you  may  stay  till 
morning,  as  many  a  pilgrim  does  rather  than  stifle  his  orisons. 
On  a  raised  platform,  just  at  the  left  as  we  enter,  sit  the  Moslem 
janitors  and  guard.  Squatting  on  their  matting,  there  they  sit, 
brewing  their  coffee,  smoking  their  pipes,  chatting  to  entertain 
their  chums,  singing  their  songs,  within  the  very  gates  that  open 
to  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Shame!  Whose  shame?  Christian 
shame.  Shame  to  wear  this  servile  yoke  and  be  thus  spat  upon 
by  such  a  feeble,  putrid,  soulless  government.  And  yet  how 
comes  it  so?  Largely  through  Christian's  hate  of  Chrisdan. 
The  Latin  and  the  Greek,  the  Protestant,  Armenian,  and  Copt 
bow  to  the  same  Father,  adore  the  same  Saviour,  yet  wrangle 
for  the  precedence  ;  agree  to  love  their  neighbors  as  themselves, 
and  turn  the  other  cheek,  the  first  being  smitten.  Yet  within 
these  very  walls  that  enshrine  the  holy  tomb,  around  this  very 


246  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

tomb  that  once  enshrined  the  Son  of  God,  have  these  brethren 
fought  with  fists  and  feet  and  knives,  till  blood  has  flowed 
and  corses  lay  in  death  upon  the  marble  floor.  Then,  said  the 
Moslem,  if  these  chosen  ones  will  fight  and  slay,  we  will  set  a 
watch  upon  their  ways,  will  ourselves  keep  the  peace  with  ever- 
present  guard.  Shame  to  men  who  profess  better  things,  that 
their  own  necks  pass  daily  here  beneath  this  Moslem  yoke  ! 

The  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  is  not  so  very  large,  but  it 
is  very  comprehensive.  It  has  been  built  at  various  times  and 
ways,  and  destroyed  again  and  then  rebuilt.  The  most  you  see 
of  floors  and  columns,  domes  and  shrines,  of  altar,  stair,  and 
ever-burning  lamps,  is  of  this  century.  You  will  go  about  its 
holy  places  and  be  told  what  happened  here  and  there.  Of 
course  you  will  believe ;  at  least  will  wish  you  could,  because 
so  many  people  do.  As  said  before,  the  building  is  very  com- 
prehensive. Here  is  Adam's  tomb.  Down  through  the  riven 
rocks  on  crucifixion  day  the  blood  of  Jesus  trickled  ;  it  entered 
Adam's  tomb ;  it  touched  his  skull ;  he  came  to  life  again. 
Here  in  this  room  you  stand  on  Calvary's  mount ;  here,  under- 
neath this  glittering,  ever-lighted  altar,  you  see  the  very  place 
where  stood  the  sacrificial  cross.  Five  feet  away  is  the  cross 
of  one  of  the  thieves,  —  the  one  impenitent ;  four  feet  and 
one  half  away  is  the  place  of  the  other's  cross,  —  the  then  re- 
pentant Dimas.  A  trifle  close  they  are,  perhaps ;  but  that 
is  not  important.  Here  were  they  found,  two  hundred  years 
after  the  momentous  day  ;  and  the  Churches  all  agree,  or  nearly 
all,  that  these  localities  are  correct.  Here  flock  the  pious  pil- 
grims from  afar,  here  bend  the  willing  knee,  and  creeping  in 
they  kiss  the  well-marked  spots  with  reverence  profound. 
Not  far  away  from  here  you  see  the  place,  well  marked,  of 
Abraham's  sacrifice.  The  Moslems  claim  to  have  it,  too ; 
but  they  are  only  heathen,  and  so  they  can't  know  as  well 
as  we.  And  close  by,  and  very  much  bekissed  and  very 
much  renewed,  is  the  anointment-stone,  where  Christ  was 
laid  when  prepared  for  the  tomb.  Here  worship  every  day, 
swinging  their  incense  lamps  and  chanting  their  doleful  songs, 
the  Latin,  Greek,  Armenian,  and  Copt ;  each,  kneeling,  kisses 
this  blessed  stone,  and  each  teaches  his  little  ones  that  the 
others  will  never  get  a  seat  m  heaven. 

A  step  or  two  away  you  see  a  simple  stone  that  marks  the 


BIBLE  LANDS.  247 

very  centre  of  the  world.  You  may  not  have  heard  that  such 
a  point  had  ever  been  fixed  upon  undisputed  authority ;  but 
so  it  is,  and  you  must  be  glad  to  know  it.  Around  about  are 
many  chapels,  —  Greek  and  Latin,  Armenian  and  Abyssinian 
and  Coptic,  —  the  chapel  where  the  angels  stood  ;  the  place  of 
the  footprints  of  Our  Lord  ;  the  place  where  the  women  stood 
apart  when  the  crucified  body  was  anointed ;  the  Chapel  of 
the  Apparition ;  the  place  where  Christ  was  held  in  prison 
while  the  cross  was  being  made ;  the  place  where  he  was 
nailed  to  the  cross ;  the  Chapel  of  the  Crowning  of  Thorns, 
and  of  the  Derision  ;  the  altar  of  the  penitent  thief,  and  of 
Longinus,  the  one-eyed  Roman  soldier  whose  other  eye  was 
there  restored  by  the  blood  that  spurted  from  the  cruel  wound 
he  made ;  the  Chapel  of  the  Parting  of  the  Raiment ;  the 
place  of  the  finding  of  the  cross  by  Empress  Helena ;  and 
many  chapels  more,  each  one  with  its  intent  worshippers. 
True,  the  Latin  and  the  Greek  do  not  quite  agree  about  the 
undoubted  sanctity  of  all  these  places  ;  but  they  are  all  on 
the  list,  —  these  and  many  more. 

But  the  main  feature  of  the  temple,  after  all,  is  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  —  a  badly  composed  piece  of  architecture  beneath 
the  central  dome.  The  ante-room  is  the  Chapel  of  the  Angels, 
—  quite  small  and  rather  dingy ;  and  beyond  is  the  Chapel 
of  the  Sepulchre.  You  stoop  and  pass  the  low-browed  door 
and  come  within  the  holy  place,  —  the  holy  of  holies,  sanctuary, 
supreme  object  of  all  Christian  veneration.  The  place  is  very 
small,  —  four  people  fill  it,  —  lined  about,  as  is  the  Angels' 
room,  with  precious  marbles ;  both  lighted  with  golden  lamps. 
As  you  came  through  the  x\ngels'  Chapel,  you  trod,  they  say, 
upon  the  very  stone  that  closed  the  door  of  Jesus'  tomb  ;  the 
same  he  rolled  away  when  he  arose  ;  the  same  he  sat  upon. 
The  precious  lamps  that  swing  above  are  owned  by  Greeks, 
Latins,  Armenians,  and  Copts.  Within  this  little  place  a  daily 
mass  is  said,  sometimes  by  one  denomination,  then  another. 
The  pilgrims  venture  in  and  kiss  the  marble  slab  or  shelf  that 
is  said  to  cover  the  rocky  tomb,  —  the  same  prepared  by 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  but  which  cannot  be  seen.  It  was  dis- 
covered here,  as  were  the  cross  and  the  place  of  crucifixion, 
by  Saint  Helena  some  sixteen  hundred  years  ago.  Old  writers 
aver  they  saw  it ;  but  it  has  met  the  eyes  of  no  one  living. 


248  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

The  hole  you  see  in  the  wall  of  the  Angel  Chapel,  —  the  hole 
upon  your  left  as  you  pass  out,  —  is  where  the  priest  hands  out 
the  sacred  fire  on  Easter  Day.  You  know  what  sacred  fire 
is  :  fire  direct  from  heaven.  On  Easter  Day  comes  this  great 
event.  Greek  Church,  Armenian,  and  Copt,  all  take  a  hand. 
The  Latin  Catholic  did  till  some  three  hundred  years  ago,  when 
he  changed  his  mind,  and  quit  getting  fire  that  way.  The  day 
before  these  fire  scenes  the  church  is  packed.  The  gallery  is 
full  of  lookers-on  who  have  bought  their  places.  Some  tie  them- 
selves with  cords  close  to  the  Sepulchre,  so  they  can't  get 
pushed  away.  Hundreds  have  stayed  over-night  in  the  church 
to  hold  their  places.  When  darkness  comes  the  priest  enters 
the  holy  place,  —  the  Chapel  of  the  Sepulchre,  Without, 
all  lights  are  extinguished.  In  darkness  and  commotion  the 
masses  wait  with  unlit  torches  in  hand,  —  awaiting  the  time 
when  God  shall  send  an  angel  down  from  heaven  to  light  the 
torch  the  priest  now  holds  within.  Soon  the  angel  comes.  Its 
radiance  lights  up  the  Angel  Chapel.  The  people  catch  the 
holy  gleam  ;  and  soon  the  priest  extends  a  lighted  torch  from 
out  the  aperture.  Lucky  the  man  whose  torch  is  lighted  first. 
Large  sums  are  paid  to  get  it,  and  fierce  the  contest ;  but  the 
guard  is  there  to  keep  the  peace.  And  so  it  is  that  sacred  fire 
is  annually  obtained  from  the  altar  from  on  high.  You  may  not 
credit  the  honesty  of  the  priest ;  but  what  you  believe  or  dis- 
believe cuts  no  figure  in  the  case.  Many  millions  of  Christian 
people  do  believe,  and  that  is  enough  for  them.  And  as  to 
having  faith  in  this  or  that,  you  have  got  to  have  faith  for  many 
other  things  you  find  here  besides  this  holy  fire.  Do  men  be- 
lieve that  these  Holy  Sepulchre  places  are  real  ?  Yes,  many  mil- 
lions do.  Nine  tenths  of  all  the  Christian  world,  perhaps,  believe 
these  things,  and  are  happy,  too,  in  that  belief.  Let  history 
doubt ;  let  facts  be  otherwise ;  faith  laughs  at  history  and  takes 
hold  on  higher  things.  Coming  here,  bring  it  with  you  ;  bring 
plenty  of  it,  and  keep  your  reason  and  your  wits  for  pagan  temples 

farther  on. 

....... 

Jerusalem  is  rather  high,  the  Dead  Sea  very  low.  The  former 
is  some  five-and-twenty  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea, 
the  latter  half  as  much  below.  So,  going  from  Jerusalem  to 
Jericho  by  the  route  "  a  certain  man "  is  said  to  have  taken 


BIBLE  LANDS.  249 

when  he  fell  among  thieves,  you  must  descend  some  thirty- 
seven  hundred  feet.  The  way  is  by  the  graded  road,  —  a 
road  so  rough  at  many  points  that  no  carriage  can  pass  it. 
While  the  temperature  is  comfortably  cool  at  Jerusalem,  it  is 
in  the  eighties  down  where  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  stood  before 
the  sea  was  there.  To  start  out  on  this  trip  you  get  your  tents 
and  dragoman,  a  half-dozen  saddle-horses,  and  your  dozen 
mules,  the  which,  with  cook  and  servants,  guard  and  muleteers, 
make  up  a  rather  long  procession.  The  baggage-mules  start 
first,  well  laden  with  a  couple  of  tons  of  stuff,  and  go  straight 
to  Jericho ;  while  the  horsemen  and  dragoman  and  armed 
guards  bring  up  the  rear  quite  leisurely.  The  beasts  of  burden 
trudge  on  all  day  without  a  moment's  stop,  following  their  file- 
leader,  the  bells  of  which  you  hear  for  half  a  mile.  The  tour- 
ists keep  a  sumpter  mule  along  with  them,  and  so  at  noon  they 
stop  and  take  a  lunch,  an  hour's  rest  beside  some  spring  or  at 
some  olive  grove,  and  give  the  nags  a  nibble  of  green  grass. 
These  Arabs  feed  their  horses  only  twice  a  day,  —  morning  and 
evening,  —  often  tasting  no  food  or  water  between  these  meals. 

The  guard  we  have  with  us  consists  of  four  men,  —  a  noble- 
looking  mounted  Arab  chief  who  lived  at  Bethpage,  whence  the 
Saviour  got  the  ass's  colt,  and  three  stalwart  braves  of  his 
armed  with  rifles,  pistols,  swords,  and  knives,  all  looking  rather 
fierce.  The  reason  why  we  surround  ourselves  with  such  armed 
force  is  that  we  pay  a  forced  tribute  to  the  Bedouin  tribe.  The 
tribe  that  occupies  the  land  through  which  this  journey  lies 
make  this  a  constant  business.  Easily  can  they  make  the 
journey  seem  most  dangerous ;  and  to  dispel  these  fears  and 
make  this  armed  presence  a  necessity,  they  stipulate  with  every 
crowd,  that  for  a  certain  sum  they  will  go  along  and  render 
travel  safe.  It  is  but  another  form  of  "  tariff  for  revenue  and 
revenue  only."  They  ask  to  be  well  paid  to  behave  themselves. 
So  did  the  castle  barons  of  the  Rhine  so  many  years  ago  ;  so  did 
the  people  of  Tarifa,  near  Gibraltar  straits,  in  centuries  long  since 
past ;  so  do  the  customs  service  in  our  own  and  many  other 
lands  to-day,  in  ways  perhaps  more  civilized,  but  quite  as  sure. 

And  so,  with  horses,  mules,  and  tents  and  guards,  we  leave 
the  city  by  St.  Stephen's  Gate,  and  travel  on  to  Jordan  and  the 
old  Dead  Sea.  Skirting  the  field  of  tombs,  we  pass  down  to  the 
narrow  vale  in  sight  of  many  an  olden  rock-cut  tomb  where 


250  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

rest  the  bones,  maybe,  of  many  a  once-great  Jew ;  pass  close 
along  the  spot  where  Saint  Stephen  was  stoned  to  death,  —  the 
first  of  Christian  martyrs ;  then  skirt  the  freshly  built  walls  of 
sad  Gethsemane,  and  trot  along  the  stony  road  past  countless 
Hebrew  graves,  past  the  spot  where  the  harmless  tree  was 
cursed  because  it  bore  no  fruit,  and  come  anon  to  Bethany, 
where  lived  Mary  and  Martha,  and  the  resurrected  Lazarus, 
whom  Christ  loved.  Then  down  and  down  we  pass  into 
the  deeper  vales,  picking  our  way  over  steep  and  stony  roads, 
through  lands  whose  flesh  is  gone  and  sap  dried  up  ;  whose 
naked,  rocky  bones,  all  parched  and  bleached,  strike  the  eye 
unpleasingly.  Upon  these  thousand  Jud^an  hills  there  was 
once  much  fatness.  Here  once  a  teeming  population  thrived, 
but  now  a  half-wild  wandering  race  gain  but  a  precarious 
living. 

Down  into  this  yawning  vale  we  ride,  down  and  still  down,  — 
down  past  the  Apostles'  Spring;  down  along  the  brook  bed 
where  the  water  sometimes  runs  in  rainy  days ;  and  come  at 
noon  to  the  Samaritan  inn.  Here,  so  the  legend  runs,  came 
that  good  Samaritan,  bringing  that  *'  certain  man  "  who  "  went 
down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  and  fell  among  thieves  "  who 
wounded  him  and  went  their  way,  leaving  him  half-dead.  We 
passed  the  point  where  the  priest  saw  the  helpless  victim  lying, 
and  passed  on  ;  and  where  the  pious  Levite  also  saw,  but  paid 
no  heed.  We  spread  our  carpet  on  the  ground  within  the  new 
inn  walls,  and  ate  our  chicken,  eggs,  and  fruit,  where  stood  that 
good  Samaritan,  so  hated  of  the  Jews,  when  he  paid  the  host 
two-pence,  and  said,  "  Take  care  of  him,  and  whatsoever  thou 
shalt  spend  over  and  above,  I  at  my  return  will  pay  thee." 
The  sum  paid  down  was  not  exorbitant,  as  things  go  now,  but 
the  act  was  noble  ;  and  we  all  hoped,  as  we  ate  our  bread  in 
peace  and  sipped  a  cup  of  wine,  that  the  man  got  well,  and  that 
the  Samaritan's  example  might  be  followed  out  should  any  one 
of  us  fall  into  robbers'  hands.  The  host  that  made  our  coffee 
over  a  litde  fire  within  an  American  kerosene  tin  can  —  a  make- 
shift for  a  better  stove  —  might  have  been  a  lineal  descendant  of 
the  ancient  landlord  who  took  the  two-pence  and  the  contin- 
gent promise  ;  but  when  we  asked  if  it  were  not  so,  he  only 
smiled  and  went  on  brewing  Arab  coffee.  He  had  evidently 
forgotten,  or  did  n't  want  to  tell. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  25  I 

The  way  beyond  leads  on  through  gorges,  rocks,  and  hills, 
and  past  a  single  tree,  —  almost  the  only  one  along  the  way. 
We  pass  some  ruins  of  old  Roman  aqueducts,  which  tell  a  story 
of  the  Roman  occupation,  —  how  they  dammed  the  deep  moun- 
tain gorges  to  save  up  stores  of  rain,  and  built  these  aqueducts 
of  cemented  stone  to  lead  the  waters  to  the  parched  slopes  and 
plains.  The  Roman  knew  the  virtues  of  irrigation  and  hoped 
to  make  the  then  declining  country  fruitful.  He  doubtless  did 
so.  But  after  him  the  Arab,  —  a  nomad  who  cared  not  for 
bridges  or  roads  or  aqueducts,  and  let  them  and  the  country  go 
to  common  ruin.  A  little  farther  on  we  pass  a  fearful  gorge, 
wherein  they  say  that  old  Elijah  hid  himself  and  was  fed  through 
the  kindness  of  some  ravens.  There  are  several  places  in 
Palestine  that  claim  to  be  the  spot,  but  this  seems  as  good  as 
any. 

Now  we  descend  the  hill  along  the  gorge's  brink,  — the  deep- 
cut  Wady  Kelt ;  go  past  the  so-called  Moses'  Pool,  without  a 
drop  of  water  or  a  present  place  for  any ;  and  passing  a  noisy 
brook,  the  Cherith,  the  first  running  stream  that  we  have  seen 
for  days,  we  come  into  the  wide-spread  Jordan  valley,  and  anon 
to  the  ruins  of  old  Jericho,  and  to  Elisha's  fountain  that  watered 
once  that  now  long-demolished  city  and  gave  rich  fruitage  to  a 
wide-spread  field  and  garden  space  below.  They  say  this  noble 
spring  which  here  rushes  forth  from  beneath  the  ancient  mound 
was  once  quite  salt  and  bitter  ;  but  that  good  old  Elisha  came 
this  way,  and  finding  it  unfit  to  quench  his  thirst,  threw  into  it 
purifying  salt  from  out  of  a  new  cruse,  saying,  "  I  have  healed 
these  waters  ;  there  shall  not  come  from  thence  any  more  death 
or  barren  land."  The  waters  now  are  excellent.  The  natives  call 
the  spring  Ain  es  Sultan.  By  this  cool,  copious  spring  our  tents 
were  ready  pitched,  our  beds  made  up,  our  table  set  for  dinner ; 
here  by  Elisha's  spring,  with  the  rich  watered  plain  and  New 
Jericho  in  front ;  near  by  some  dirty  Arab  dens  ;  and  just  be- 
hind us  the  Mount  of  Temptation,  chapel-crowned,  from  which 
the  Devil  showed  Christ  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and,  owning 
not  an  acre  of  the  view,  offered  for  a  moment's  recognition  the 
entire  patch.  It  might  have  been  a  fairer,  healthier  country 
then  ;  we  really  hope  it  was  ;  but  if  it  was  not,  a  gift  in  full  of 
the  whole  lot  would  scarcely  be  worth  the  taking.  The  sun- 
burned ledges  with  which  the  mount  is  faced  are  punctured  with 


252  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

hermit  caves.  Here  in  the  olden  time,  when  men  tried  to  be 
very  good  indeed,  they  took  themselves  from  cities,  homes,  and 
family,  and  coming  to  such  lonely,  dismal  spots,  ensconced 
themselves  within  such  mountain  caves,  many  of  which  may 
only  be  approached  by  ropes  let  down,  and  there  lived  lives  of 
prayer  and  penance,  dirt  and  devotion.  They  ate  weeds  and 
roots ;  slept  on  sticks  and  stones  and  penitential  briers ;  chas- 
tised their  unwashed  bodies  till  the  devils  fled  in  rage  ;  and  then 
they  came  feebly  back  again  where  people  lived,  or  died  alone 
within  their  cheerless  dens,  to  become  the  prey  of  jackals  and  of 
vultures.     To  these  monastic  homes  we  made  no  pilgrimage. 

This  is  Jordan  valley  where  we  camped,  and  this  is  all  that 
is  left  of  ancient  Jericho, — the  first  city  that  fell  before  the  army 
of  General  Joshua,  its  stoutly  builded  walls  falling  down  at  the 
sound  of  his  loud  trumpet  blasts.  Then  the  bloodthirsty  army 
fell  upon  the  unprotected  men  and  women,  children  and  sick 
and  helpless,  and  slaughtered  every  one,  —  all  save  the  woman 
Rahab  and  her  family,  because  she  had  harbored  Gideon  and 
Caleb,  spies  that  Joshua  had  sent,  —  slew  all  these  weak  and 
defenceless  ones,  and  thanked  God  for  such  a  glorious  victory. 
Then  he  roundly  cursed  the  place,  and  cursed  in  advance  any 
one  who  might  rebuild  its  walls.  Yet  it  was  rebuilt ;  Elisha  once 
lived  here,  and  David's  priests  were  bidden  to  tarry  here  till  they 
had  beards  again  ;  and  Herod  had  a  palace  here,  — a  castle  and 
a  circus  ;  and  here  he  had  his  son  —  the  last  of  the  Maccabees 
—  drowned  by  Marian ;  and  to  this  spot  he  summoned  all  his 
chiefs  and  leading  men,  and  as  his  death  drew  nigh  he  shut 
them  up,  to  have  them  decently  murdered  at  the  moment  of  his 
own  death,  that  all  the  land  might  wail.  Five  days  before  his 
death  he  killed  his  other  son,  Antipater,  and  so  the  family  was 
finished.  Here,  too,  our  Saviour  spent  a  night,  and  Zaccheus 
climbed  a  tree  his  Lord  to  see.  Christ  stayed  in  Zaccheus'  house 
that  night,  two  miles,  they  say,  from  this  same  spring  where 
we  have  our  tents.  The  house,  so  the  tradition  runs,  is  now 
owned  by  the  Sheik,  — the  large  square  house  down  there  among 
the  fig-trees.  Here  Zaccheus  divided  up  his  goods  ;  for  he  was 
very  rich.  One  half  he  gave  to  the  poor,  for  which  salvation 
came  unto  his  house  ;  the  rest  he  kept,  and  probably  had  enough 
then.  The  tree  he  climbed  has  disappeared  ;  though  monastic 
Saint  Anthony  says  he  saw  it  four  or  five  hundred  years  later. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  2$$ 

The  church  that  was  built  over  his  house  is  also  gone,  —  gone 
is  everything  but  a  lot  of  mounds  of  rubbish,  some  Hnes  of 
buried  walls  and  old  unhewn  foundation  stones,  and  the  grand 
old  spring.  The  walls  and  towers  that  Vespasian  built,  and 
those  that  Trajan  reared,  all,  all  are  gone.  The  curse  of  Joshua 
has  followed  it  closely,  leaving  behind  the  pretty  natural  site,  the 
ever-flowing  and  ever-blessed  spring  round  which  the  shepherds 
and  the  horsemen  come  to  water  bleating  flocks  or  rest  for  the 
night. 

Leaving  our  tents  in  place,  we  take  our  Arab  nags  and  sump- 
ter  mule  and  start  off  to  the  sea.  The  way  is  hot,  for  soon  we 
leave  the  verduring  influence  of  the  noble  spring  and  pass  into 
the  lifeless  valley  of  the  sea.  The  Dead  Sea  in  the  ages  past  was 
much  larger  than  now.  When  Judasan  hills  were  clad  with  trees, 
and  wooded  lands  held  much  of  moisture  that  gradually  found 
its  way  into  this  deep  basin  land,  the  sea  was  rather  large.  But 
as  hills  were  denuded,  there  came  less  rain,  and  that  was  mostly 
turned  to  vapor  where  it  fell ;  the  brooks  got  dry,  whole  rivers 
ceased  to  flow,  and  thus  bereft  of  fluvial  revenue  the  Dead  Sea 
shores  receded.  You  see  the  plain  record  of  this  written  in 
sandy  strata  in  the  grassless  dunes  through  which  you  pick  your 
way.  If,  as  is  believed  on  poor  authority,  the  Dead  Sea  came 
to  take  the  place  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  these  cities  must 
have  been  considerable  in  size,  —  some  forty  miles  by  ten. 

The  sea  was  rather  angry  when  we  came.  Great  crested 
waves  were  rolling  in.  It  was  no  great  sight  after  all.  My 
governor  had  bet  a  hat  with  Colonel  Nead  that  he  could  swim 
three  hundred  yards  in  Dead  Sea  water  the  same  as  one  might 
swim  in  a  fresh-water  lake.  The  travel-books  and  tourists  have 
often  said  that  one  can't  do  this  thing ;  that  these  much-salted 
waters  heave  him  out  and  sting  the  flesh,  and  make  a  swim  a 
great  perplexity.  The  hat  was  bet,  and  in  he  went — the  water 
cold  as  ice.  He  swam  a  rod  or  so,  but  did  n't  wait  to  win. 
He  thinks  the  stories  told  untrue,  but  didn't  relish  the  temper- 
ature. The  colonel  shakes  his  head,  and  is  not  convinced  that 
what  he  read  was  false.  The  fact  probably  is  that  both  are 
nearly  right,  the  facility  of  swimming  depending  upon  the 
place  selected.  The  sea  has  places  much  more  salt  than  the 
one  we  stopped  at,  near  the  Jordan's  mouth.  This  is  the  least 
salty  part  of  all  the  pond.     Far  down  to  the  lower  end  is  a 


254  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

mountain  ridge  of  almost  pure  rock-salt,  some  six  miles  long 
and  over  five  hundred  feet  high,  whose  base  probably  extends 
far  out  beneath  the  surface  of  the  lake.  Here  and  there  this 
salt  ridge  is  quite  close  to  the  water  ;  at  others,  fifty  yards  away. 
At  all  events,  just  there  the  water  is  the  saltest  and  most  difficult 
to  swim  in.  This  salt  mine,  of  which  the  entire  sea  is  considered 
a  part,  belongs  to  the  Turkish  government ;  and  so  strictly  is  it 
guarded  that  the  natives  are  not  permitted  to  appropriate  a  lump 
or  evaporate  a  pan  of  water  for  salt-producing  purposes.  The 
Dead  Sea  has  no  fish  or  shells  or  other  life.  The  water  is  very 
salt ;  the  shore  is  dull  and  devoid  of  interest.  No  boat  rides 
on  its  surface.  Once,  in  Roman  times,  there  was  shipping  here  ; 
but  the  Arab  wants  no  boats.  The  Jordan  is  its  principal 
affluent ;  outlet  it  has  none  ;  evaporation  keeps  its  stage  about 
the  same.  This  sea  is  much  the  same  as  that  of  Utah,  but  not 
so  deep  by  a  hundred  feet. 

An  hour's  ride  takes  us  to  the  Jordan  ford,  the  old  baptizing 
place.  A  lunch  and  rest,  and  then  we  mount  to  return,  passing 
by  the  chapel-crested  hill  where  Saint  John  lived  in  the  wilderness 
of  rock  and  sand,  and  whence  he  travelled  hand  in  hand  with 
Christ  to  the  already  old  baptismal  rites  ■  then  past  the  ruins  of 
the  Gilgal  town,  where  Joshua  mustered  his  host  the  day  after 
crossing  Jordan  to  the  promised  land,  and  where  the  old-time 
Egyptian  circumcision  rite  was  once  more  renewed  ;  up  past  the 
dirty  kennel  called  New  Jericho,  a  Bedouin  den  of  thieves  ;  then 
through  the  orchards  full  of  figs  and  almonds  and  apricots,  and 
vineyards  of  fine  grapes,  back  to  our  tent  again.  The  Jordan 
valley  is  a  desert  where  no  water  flows  ;  but  give  it  water  and 
good  society,  and  it  would  make  a  sort  of  endurable  yet  un- 
healthy paradise.  A  place  so  low  and  full  of  sickly  vapors  can 
hardly  be  a  wholesome  place.  All  attempts  to  make  it  so  have 
failed,  and  no  one  but  these  natives  think  of  making  it  a  home. 
It  may  have  flowed  once  with  milk  and  honey  ;  it  now  has  some 
few  sheep  and  cattle,  fruit,  Arabs,  and  old  associations.  Crowds 
of  Greek-Church  Catholics  come  here  to  plunge  in  the  Jordan's 
sacred  but  nasty  waters,  just  as  Indian  people  plunge  into  the 
sacred  but  slimy  Ganges.  They  take  great  joy  in  doing  this ; 
let  no  one  come  to  turn  them  back. 

We  spend  another  night  upon  the  site  of  ruined  Jericho ; 
then,  Arab-like,  we  fold  our  tents  by  morning  light,  and  gladly 


BIBLE  LANDS.  255 

Steal  away,  returning  to  Jerusalem  the  way  by  which  we  came  ; 
stopping  to  enter  Lazarus'  tomb  and  see  where  Mary  and 
Martha  lived ;  stopping,  too,  at  Gethsemane  and  Olivet  and 
Virgin  INIary's  tomb.  You  may  have  heard  that  "  Jordan  is  a  hard 
road  to  travel."  It  is ;  and  many  a  wandering  fool  has  found  it 
out  too  late.  AMien  you  want  to  go  to  the  Dead  Sea  and  the 
Jordan  at  that  point  —  don't ! 

A  most  peculiar  people  are  these  Jews.  The  Egyptian  lost 
his  cities  and  his  land,  —  the  fattest  land  on  earth,  —  yet  among 
its  living  generations  comes  to  us  no  token  of  regret ;  the  Syrian 
of  to-day  scarce  thinks  or  even  knows  of  mighty,  fallen  Babylon, 
where  erst  his  fathers  lived  ;  and  the  Phoenician,  struggling  at  his 
oars,  has  no  regretful  thought  that  his  ancestry  once  ruled  these 
Orient  waves.  These  peoples  have  dwindled  down,  and  have 
lost,  among  the  ever-rolling  waves  of  time,  their  memory,  care, 
and  even  thought  of  the  power  and  glory  their  forefathers 
claimed  and  won  of  yore.  Not  so  the  Hebrew.  No  Egyptian 
wails  about  the  mouldered  gates  of  On,  or  sobs  about  its  lonely 
obelisk ;  no  Syrian  sighs  among  the  sandy  knolls  where  hung 
the  seventh  wonder  of  the  classic  world,  —  the  ambitious  hang- 
ing gardens  ;  and  no  Phoenician  son  now  quits  his  oar  or  plough 
to  wander  wofully  among  the  ports  and  ruined  commerce  towns 
his  fathers  built  in  days  so  long  gone  by.  By-gones  are  by- 
gones with  such  as  these,  whose  memories  are  so  well  grassed 
over  with  their  forgetfulness. 

Let  us  go  to  the  Wailing  Wall,  here  in  this  oft-destroyed  and 
oft-deserted  city.  The  way  is  rather  long  ;  we  pick  it  out  along 
the  muddy  lanes  and  through  the  foul  bazaars ;  we  leap  over 
pools  of  stagnant  filth  and  smear  our  boots  and  trousers'  legs 
with  dirty  mud  and  slime  ;  we  encounter  devious  ways  among 
the  homes  of  poverty  and  rags ;  pass  broken  arches,  crumbling 
walls,  and  frowzy  kennels  of  these  streets,  and  find  our  tiresome 
way  down  to  the  Wailing  Wall.  It  is  not  the  city  wall,  nor  any 
part  of  it,  but,  as  is  claimed,  the  strong  foundation  walls  of  the 
great  Temple  built  by  Solomon,  —  the  one  that  dazed  fair  Sheba's 
queen  with  its  magnificence.  This  wall  is  mighty,  ponderous. 
Cyclopean  draughted  stone  range  here  in  noble  tiers,  defying  those 
who  tore  the  temple  down  and  razed  the  city  walls  ;  and  here 
within  a  narrow  limbo  street,  on  dryer  soil  than  we  had  seen 


256  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

before,  stood  and  sat  the  Hebrew  families,  —  the  aged  time- 
bent  fathers  and  mothers,  and  those  of  middle  age  ;  the  fair- 
complexioned  daughters  clad  in  homely  clothes,  —  men,  women, 
children,  all  of  Hebrew  mould  and  type,  and  all  in  deeply 
sorrowing  mood,  bewailing  glories  past  and  gone  and  praying 
God  to  hearken  to  their  moans  and  not  forget  His  precious 
promises.  Some,  with  their  well-thumbed  Bibles  in  their  hands, 
stood  there  and  read  aloud  in  doleful  strains  the  great  Jeho\-ah's 
words ;  some,  prone  upon  the  ground,  sat  with  clasped  hands 
and  dampened  cheeks,  and  bethought  themselves  of  long-past 
fruitful  days  ;  and  many  leaned  against  the  dark,  cold  stones, 
and  prayed  and  kissed  the  time-stained  walls,  rending  the  air 
with  sobs  and  cries  as  though  their  very  hearts  would  break. 
In  this  there  seemed  no  sham  nor  pious  fraud  or  pride,  but  that 
deep-seated  earnestness  of  grief  that  shows  no  sign  of  guile  or 
counterfeit.  No  golden  censers  here  were  swung ;  there  were 
no  richly  broidered  suits  nor  jewelled  robes  nor  images,  but 
deeply  seated  grief  and  earnest  pleading  words.  Elsewhere 
the  demonstrations  seemed  formal  and  theatrical,  —  to  be  seen 
of  men.  Not  so  with  these  poor  Jews,  who  weekly  come  to  wail 
at  this  otherwise  unfrequented  spot. 

The  wall  is  old  and  very  high  and  strong ;  and  if  any  spot 
there  be  in  all  this  ancient  city  that  has  a  semblance  of  great 
antiquity,  this  is  it.  Of  course  these  Jews  have  no  actual  knowl- 
edge of  the  day  or  date  of  these  great  mural  stones,  but  take  it 
all  on  trust.  Antiquarians  say  the  lower  courses  are  of  Herod's 
time,  —  long  after  the  days  of  Solomon.  That  God  will  hear 
their  prayers,  and  send  a  promised  Christ  to  establish  his 
throne  on  Zion's  hill  from  which  to  rule  the  world,  they  fervently 
believe,  —  believe  it  now  as  they  have  done  in  all  the  ages  past. 
Scattered  are  their  people  over  every  land ;  and  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  and  more  have  passed  since  Titus  destroyed  their 
city  and  drove  them  forth  forever;  yet  even  as  the  magnet 
points  toward  the  pole,  so  every  Hebrew  still  remembers  Zion, 
and  rests  upon  the  promises.  Whether  at  cities  remote  or  near, 
in  the  tropic  heat  or  on  the  snow-clad  hills,  yet  do  they  turn 
unto  God  even  as  these  sad  ones  wail  beneath  this  wall,  and 
well  remember  Zion,  and  cry  out  as  with  one  voice  :  "  Haste, 
haste.  Redeemer  of  Zion  !  Speak  unto  the  heart  of  Jerusalem, 
and  may  the  promised  branch  of  Jesse  spring  up  therein." 


BIBLE  LANDS.  257 

Other  peoples  have  quite  forgotten  their  homes  and  former 
times  of  greatness,  strength,  and  power ;  the  Jew  never  forgets. 
The  Egyptian  has  lost  all  sight  of  Amnion  Ra  and  Osiris ;  the 
heavenly  mother,  Isis,  and  her  god-begotten  son,  Horus,  have 
no  thrill  for  him  \  the  Assyrian  knows  not  Bel,  and  the  Phoeni- 
cian wots  not  who  or  what  or  where  the  Dagon  was ;  but  the 
Hebrew  hope  rests  on  Jehovah  still,  and  trusts  a  deathless  trust 
on  promises  recorded  in  their  Testament  full  many  years  ago. 
We  speak  of  hope  and  trust  and  faith  as  though  these  were  ours 
alone  ;  but  in  all  these  we  may  sit  at  the  Jewish  Gamaliel's  feet 
and  learn  wisdom.  Christians  have  long  been  taught  to  hate 
and  revile  these  Jews  and  flout  their  faith  and  call  them  harshest 
names ;  but  one  who  reads  their  history,  and  takes  the  pains  to 
travel  on  their  track  from  Herod's  time  to  this,  must  respect 
these  men  of  the  bravest  and  stoutest  faith. 

We  are  sorry  we  went  to  the  Dead  Sea  and  Jordan,  —  not  so 
much  to  the  former  as  the  latter.  To  the  common  Christian 
mind  the  Jordan  is  a  fair  stream,  with  waters  pure  and  clear 
flowing  between  two  lovely  banks  of  green,  along  verdured 
fields  and  fruited  groves,  —  a  liquid  poem  flowing  down  from 
Hermon  hills.  You  have  seen  the  masters'  pictures  of  Saint 
Christopher  ;  you  have  seen  the  paintings  of  the  Church,  where 
John  stands  on  the  flowery  bank  and  Christ  stands  in  the  rush- 
ing stream,  and  over  both  the  dove  of  peace.  Fair  were  these 
pictures  to  my  eyes,  and  fair  the  pulpit  pictures  sometimes 
drawn  of  Jordan's  waters,  clear  and  pure,  that  cleanse  the  soul 
and  bear  away  the  taint  of  every  sin.  All  wrong  !  Would  you 
see  Jordan  ?  Go  to  the  wandering  Wapsie  in  its  dirtiest  days  ; 
go  to  the  scummy  Skunk  where  it  fills  its  dirty  banks ;  go  to 
the  muddy  Missouri  at  its  roily  worst ;  and  j'ou  will  not  find  a 
fouler-looking  river  than  this  same  Jordan  stream,  —  in  size 
much  like  the  Wapsie ;  a  roily,  nasty  flood  at  its  most  sacred 
point,  whereat  we  lunched  the  other  day.  Its  banks  are  shelv- 
ing, muddy,  fringed  with  weeds,  willows  too,  and  cottonwoods  ; 
its  waters  overscummed  with  mud  and  dirty  froth  and  filled  with 
treacherous  swirls.  We  thought  to  take  a  plunge  beneath  the 
Jordan  flood.  This  was  before  we  got  there.  Coming  unto  its 
banks,  —  fronting  the  very  spot  where,  as  they  say,  John  bap- 
tized Christ,  after  the  then  old  Brahmanic,  Persian  custom,  —  we 
let  the  resolution  die,  and  sat  there  on  the  dirty  shore  and  ate  our 

17 


258  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

bread  and  wine  in  disappointment.  The  Catholics  from  the 
City  of  Brotherly  Love  reckoned  they  would  n't  go  in  for  any 
sum  of  faith  or  money ;  the  Presbyterian  had  got  all  he  wanted 
in  a  Dead  Sea  swim,  and  while  he  protested  oft  to  unbelieving 
ears  that  he  had  swum  worse  fords  with  rifle,  clothes,  and 
rations  on  his  back  in  California  days,  he  did  n't  care  to  get 
befouled  again  ;  the  Christian  of  the  crowd  was  sick  at  heart, 
and  vexed  all  through.  But  here  the  pilgrims  yearly  meet  to 
wrestle  with  the  muddy  stuff.  Here  they  came  in  flocks  of 
thousands  in  the  mediaeval  time.  Here  in  mid-stream  a  cross 
was  set ;  the  banks  were  walled,  they  say,  and  paved  with 
marble  ;  broad  steps  of  stone  led  down  into  the  flood,  and 
brawny  priests  stood  out  in  the  mid-stream  in  muddy  water  to 
their  necks,  while  Arab  guides  drove  in  the  human  flocks  like 
helpless  sheep.  The  priests  then  plunged  them  each  beneath 
the  flood  with  most  irreverent  haste  and  sent  them  back  to 
land  ;  their  sins,  of  course,  all  washed  away,  their  bodies  smeared 
with  mud. 

This  is  written  two  hundred  miles  away  from  the  Jordan,  in  a 
land  watered  by  Damascus  rivers,  —  the  Abana  and  the  Phar- 
par.  And  as  we  see  the  copious  waters  of  this  gentile  land, 
the  rushing  rivers,  brooks,  and  rivulets,  and  catch  the  leaping 
cascades'  gleam,  and  watch  the  rippling  rush  of  many  a  cooling 
stream,  we  can  but  side  with  Naaman  in  his  proper  praise  of 
the  waters  of  his  own  fair  land,  which  are  really  "  better  than 
all  the  waters  of  Israel." 

•  •  •  •  •  •  • 

Returning  from  Jericho  the  other  day,  we  drew  our  reins  at 
Bethany  to  get  a  view  of  Lazarus'  tomb ;  for  he  lived  here, 
died  and  was  buried  here,  and  some  days  after,  when  his  dead 
body  began  to  fill  the  air  with  taint,  was  by  the  Saviour  brought 
to  life  again.  The  tomb  in  which  this  man  thus  dead  was  laid 
away  is  the  chief  show  in  Bethany.  We  paid  our  entrance-fee, 
then,  stooping  low,  passed  in,  and  by  the  light  of  flickering 
candles  picked  our  dangerous  way  far  down  the  well-trod  steps 
into  the  old-time  vault,  some  twenty  feet  or  more  below  the 
daylight.  Here  on  this  side  was  the  tomb  of  Lazarus ;  for  so 
the  venerable  guide  averred.  And  here  had  lain  in  death  —  in 
days  of  death  —  a  human  body.  Where,  then,  was  his  soul? 
In  heaven  ;  for  he  died  a  righteous  man.     But  God,  at  Christ's 


BIBLE  LANDS.  259 

request,  sent  that  soul  back  from  heaven  to  Bethany  to  take  on 
life  and  tainted  flesh  again.  Miraculous  !  What  chance  was 
this  to  write  a  book  !  He  was  the  only  man  who  hatl  lived, 
died,  gone  aloft  to  realms  of  bliss,  returned  to  earth  again  ;  yet 
he  wrote  no  line  of  what  he  saw  or  heard  or  knew  of  ways 
beyond  the  grave.  No  man  has  lived  that  knew  so  much  as 
he,  and  of  the  very  things  that  all  who  lived  before  or  since 
have  longed  to  know ;  and  yet  he  spoke  no  word  and  left  no 
hint  behind. 

Clambering  back  to  the  street  again,  the  beggars  clustered 
around  to  tell  how  poor  they  were  and  cry  for  bisJiUks.  Was 
there  such  a  crowd  as  this  when  Lazarus  came  forth?  Mount- 
ing our  steeds,  we  passed  on  through  the  dirty  streets  again. 

"  Come  in  here,  my  master  ;  come  in  here,  my  lord  !  "  She 
who  spoke  was  an  auburn-haired,  frowzy-looking  Bethany  lass, 
with  rather  pretty  face. 

"  Why  should  I  come  in?  " 

"  This  is  Magdalen  house,  —  house  where  Mary  and  Martha 
lived." 

"  So?     Are  you  Mary  or  Martha?  " 

"  Mary,  my  lord.     Come  in  ;  come  in  and  see  the  house." 

"  Where  is  Martha?     Go  bring  her,  quick  !  " 

And  away  she  ran,  back  through  the  high-walled  yard  and 
into  the  low-doored  house,  to  hunt  up  Martha;  while  we,  with 
unbelief,  rode  on,  —  rode  on  to  sad  Gethsemane.  Coming  to 
the  Garden,  the  Latin  one,  —  the  Greek  has  another,  farther  up 
the  mount  towards  Olivet,  —  we  all  dismounted.  Which  is  the 
right  one,  or  whether  either  is  the  true  place  of  the  Agony,  no 
one  alive  can  tell.  We  took  the  first  we  came  to,  for  night  was 
coming  on.  The  Garden  is  well  walled  in  and  fitted  round 
about  with  little  shrines  representing  the  important  periods  in 
the  last  hours  before  the  crucifixion  and  those  immediately 
after.  The  olive-trees  within  are  very  venerable.  Some  believe 
they  stood  here  in  the  Saviour's  time  ;  but  history  says  that  at 
the  time  of  Titus'  siege  all  trees  about  Jerusalem  were  cut  away 
for  use.  The  place  of  the  betrayal  is  also  shown,  where  Judas 
kissed  his  Master  on  the  cheek,  and  so  made  the  great  work  of 
salvation  possible.  A  kiss  of  woful  death,  and  yet  a  kiss  of  life, 
of  peace  and  hope  and  joy  to  all  the  world.  We  decry  this 
awful  Judas ;  but  what  could  the  world  of  sinful  man  have  done 


260  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

without  his  timely  aid?  We  pray  our  prayers  and  count  again 
our  beads,  pick  some  pretty  flowers,  and  hasten  out  to  climb 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  —  a  sightly  place,  with  many  walls,  a 
chapel,  too,  and  tower  and  handsome  church.  Jerusalem  from 
here  is  seen  at  its  best,  —  a  very  interesting  view  of  all  its  walls 
and  gates,  its  churches,  mosques,  and  towers.  At  this  the 
sunset  hour  the  sight  is  very  grand. 

Then  we  dropped  again  into  the  vale,  entered  into  Virgin 
Mary's  tomb,  where  are  the  tombs  of  Anna  and  Joachim.  The 
chapel  here  is  rather  grand,  belonging  to  the  Greeks.  You 
take  a  draught  of  water  from  the  ancient  well,  then  gain  the 
upper  world  again  by  a  long  flight  of  spacious  steps.  The  day 
was  spent,  the  Garden  journey  done  ;  we  climb  the  hill  once 
more  and  come  within  the  city's  walls. 

To  gain  a  new  experience  in  our  pilgrimage,  we  leave  hotel 
and  tent  behind  to  seek  monastic  quarters.  The  Casa  Nova 
being  such  a  place,  held  by  Franciscan  monks,  we  knocked 
and  gained  admission.  The  portly  friar  welcomed  us  and 
showed  us  to  our  cells,  well  fitted  up  with  beds  and  chairs  and 
mats.  A  little  farther  on  we  went  to  the  refectory,  where  we 
partook  of  such  a  dinner  as  we  had  not  seen  for  weeks.  For 
such  as  do  not  care  for  hotel  life,  this  large,  clean  monastery  is 
found  much  more  agreeable.  All  is  perfect  quiet,  —  a  place  to 
read  and  think  in.  As  to  your  faith  or  creed  or  politics, 
no  questions  will  be  asked.  You  live  upon  the  best  the 
land  affords.  The  plain  red  wines  are  excellent,  the  service 
without  fault.  These  monasteries,  or  hospices,  are  very  numer- 
ous. At  Casa  Nova  there  are  three  classes  of  pilgrim  enter- 
tainment —  first,  second,  and  third,  — \vith  dormitories  for  either 
class,  quite  independent  of  the  others.  The  first  is  very  good, 
for  which  you  pay  ordinary  hotel  rates ;  the  second  you  pay 
less  for ;  the  third,  —  well,  you  may  stay  there  thirty  days  with- 
out money  or  price.  In  fact,  if  you  should  choose  to  go  away 
from  either  class  and  make  no  sign  of  paying,  you  would  be 
bidden  God-speed.  At  least  they  tell  us  so.  We  did  n't  try 
it;  we  were  used  too  well.  Leaving  Casa  Nova  after  three 
days'  stay,  the  good  brother  manager  gave  us  each  a  certificate 
of  pilgrimage  and  good  behavior  there.  Of  this  and  kindred 
places  in  this  Orient  land  we  have  only  good  words  to  say. 
Some  are  in  cities,  some  on  the  dangerous  mountain-passes, 


BIBLE  LANDS.  26 1 

some  stand  out  in  the  desert  sands,  —  the  only  means  of  shel- 
ter, the  only  defence  from  night  and  storm  and  hunger.  Here 
are  rest  for  the  weary,  food  for  the  hungry,  drink  for  such  as 
thirst.  Come  as  prince  or  pauper ;  come  in  purple  raiment  or 
in  rags  ;  come  you  as  Christian,  Jew,  or  infidel ;  bring  you  gold 
or  bring  it  not,  —  no  question  will  be  asked,  no  bills  will  be  made 
out,  no  hint  will  be  given  of  any  debt ;  but  with  "  God  bless 
you  !  "  you  will  go  in  peace.  You  may  trav^el  all  over  the  East 
and  find  these  places  everywhere.  You  make  a  tour  of  Palestine 
and  rest  and  eat  in  one  every  night.  Some  are  very  good 
indeed ;  some  not  so  good ;  but  all  have  welcome,  shelter, 
food,  and  —  shall  we  say  it?  —  all  are  Catholic,  —  Greek,  Latin, 
Armenian,  —  and  all  intent  on  doing  good,  giving  rest  to  the 
weary,  bread  to  the  hungry,  water  in  the  desert  places.  Thank 
God  for  such  ! 

The  Greek  has  much  to  do  with  all  the  holy  places  ;  has  more 
hospice  room,  and  the  finest  chapel  in  the  sepulchral  church  ; 
hangs  up  more  golden  lamps  than  any  other  branch.  In  places 
where  the  regulation  permits  all  these  Catholic  sects  to  worship, 
each  hangs  his  own  lamps  and  keeps  them  lighted,  —  a  sort  of 
title  to  those  places.  The  Protestant  has  none.  He  comes 
and  visits,  —  worships  if  you  please  ;  may  kiss  the  column,  kiss 
the  holy  things,  look  on  and  see  the  service,  even  stay  all 
night  within  the  holy  church  ;  but  of  real  possessions,  —  chapels, 
lamps,  or  saindy  bric-a-brac,  —  it  may  be  safely  said,  I  think,  that 
he  has  none  at  all,  at  least  none  Jooked  like  his  here  or  at  Beth- 
lehem or  at  Nazareth. 

Now  of  these  sacred  places,  these  things  so  clearly  pointed 
out,  —  these  places  of  the  Passion,  where  this  one  lived,  where 
this  or  that  was  said  or  done  or  suffered,  —  what  about  them  ? 
Fiction  !  Created  places,  named  and  pointed  out  by  priests 
and  laymen,  guides  and  other  frauds.  But  who  is  to  blame  ? 
No  one.  They  come  of  a  demand,  a  want.  Pilgrims  have  been 
coming  here  for  fifteen  hundred  years.  Each  one  came  loaded 
to  the  muzzle  with  questions  :  where  was  this  or  that  ?  The 
want  must  be  supplied.  Even  though  you  come  here  knowing 
well  enough  that  not  one  place  in  twenty  that  will  be  pointed 
out  has  any  touch  of  fact  about  it,  yet  you  are  a  little  better 
satisfied  to  be  told  where  Adam  was  buried,  where  Abraham 
would  slay  his  son,  where  Jesus  was  condemned  to  death,  and 


262  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

where  he  fell  beneath  the  cross,  and  where  the  crucifixion  was ; 
where  are  kings'  and  prophets'  and  Christ's  and  Mary's  tombs ; 
these  and  no  end  of  other  spots  you  would  have  pointed  out, 
and  would  feel  rather  blank  were  none  such  to  be  seen.  The 
churches  and  people  here,  the  guides  and  those  who  have  the 
pilgrim  trade,  all  have  a  real  money  interest  in  having  these 
things  ready  made  and  right  on  hand  to  meet  your  interrogation 
points. 

The  church  sects  vie  with  each  other  in  filling  these  demands. 
To  found  a  church  or  holy  spot  of  any  sort,  a  school  or  praying 
place,  upon  an  ordinary  site,  where  no  uncommon  thing  had 
come  to  pass  in  Bible  days,  would  be  a  bit  of  folly  these  saintly 
men  would  not  be  guilty  of.  The  Greek  Church  has  its  sa- 
cred places ;  the  Latin,  the  Armenian,  and  Copt  all  have  holy 
places  that  you  '11  want  to  see  ;  all  have  these  places,  —  all  save 
Protestants.  Though  most  of  them  are  frauds,  yet  you  are  will- 
ing to  be  humbugged  rather  than  not  find  what  you  ask  for. 
Why  humbug?  Read  the  history  of  Jerusalem,  —  conquered, 
reconquered,  burned,  torn  down  a  dozen  times  ;  new  Jerusalems 
built  upon  the  stamped-down  rubbish  of  preceding  ones  at  least 
a  dozen  times  ;  the  old  streets  lost,  wiped  out,  and  covered  up  ; 
new  houses  built  fifty  or  a  hundred  times,  on  streets  and  sites 
that  had  no  reference  to  former  streets  or  sites  ;  the  people 
driven  off,  kept  centuries  in  bondage ;  no  records  kept ;  no 
places  marked ;  how  in  the  name  of  all  the  saints  and  gods  at 
once  can  sites  be  recognized?  Impossible.  Go  ask  the  Latin 
Patriarch,  an  honest  man,  who  has  no  heart  for  guile,  —  ask 
him,  as  our  Latin  lady  did,  if  those  things  be  really  true  ;  and 
he  will  tell  you,  as  he  told  her,  that  they  are  not ;  that  to  know 
them  were  impossible.  One  place  —  the  Calvary  site,  I  think 
it  was  —  he  thought  might  be  counted  on  ;  but  farther,  with 
safety,  none.  This  is  in  dispute  ;  but  since  disputing  does  no 
good  at  all,  't  is  better  it  should  rest.  Visions  and  miracles  have 
developed  several  things,  but  sometimes  two  of  the  same  kind, 
and  these  in  different  spots ;  so  there  is  but  litde  confidence 
in  such. 

But  still  the  pilgrims  swarm  here  by  thousands ;  more  of 
Greek  Catholics  than  all  the  rest  besides,  — some  say  ten  to  one. 
The  church  at  home  provides  much  for  their  wants  ;  both 
church  and  state  contribute  to  the  cause ;  so  one  may  come 


BIBLE  LANDS.  263 

here  and  stay  a  month  or  two  and  return  to  Russian  soil  for  less 
money  than  you  paid  for  your  hat  and  boots.  The  church 
supplies  the  places  they  must  see.  As  with  the  Moslem,  who 
visits  Mecca  as  a  rehgious  duty,  these  pious  pilgrims  worship 
weeks  here  at  Jerusalem  and  so-called  sacred  places  round 
about. 

Jerusalem  is  not  a  place  to  hurry  from,  for  partly  sleeping  all 
about  its  vales  and  streets  and  walls  are  old-time  memories 
and  thoughts  that  spring  up,  ghost-like,  everywhere,  refusing  yet 
to  rest.  Before  leaving  the  place,  you  must  go  to  Omar's  mosque 
and  to  the  mosque  of  Aksa ;  must  see  the  ancient  crypts  that 
rest  in  the  uncertain  light  beneath,  and  mount  the  high,  thick 
walls  that  overhang  the  deep  dark-tombed  Jehosaphat,  that  lies 
between  the  city  wall  and  Olivet.  You  see  that  rounded  stone, 
part  of  an  ancient  column  you  would  think,  projecting  outward 
from  the  wall  just  by  the  grand  old  mosques.  It  has  a  story. 
To  this  stone,  the  Moslems  say,  on  resurrection  day,  a  wire  will 
be  attached,  —  a  single  wire  not  larger  than  a  hair.  Across  the 
deep  black  gorge,  across  Gethsemane,  across  to  Olivet,  will  this 
wire  pass.  At  this  end,  here  upon  this  solid  wall,  in  that  last 
day  when  all  the  dead  must  rise  and  gather  to  be  judged  ac- 
cording to  their  doings  as  they  have  been  recorded  in  the  book 
of  life,  will  great  Mahomet  sit.  Over  against  him  at  the  other 
end  of  the  wire,  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  will  sit  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  who  with  the  chief  of  Mussulmans,  will  judge 
the  assembled  masses.  The  test,  they  say,  is  this  :  before  the 
assembled  millions,  on  this  single  wire,  must  each  one  pass.  If 
he  be  truly  good  and  fit  to  live  in  paradise  for  all  eternity,  his 
feet  will  tread  the  narrow  bridge  with  perfect  safety.  Attendant 
angels  from  the  upper  realms,  all  poised  on  steady  and  tireless 
wing,  will  range  themselves  along  on  either  side,  and  form  there 
bright  protecting  parapets  to  guard  the  footsteps  of  the  guiltless 
ones.  Those  who  are  not  so  good,  or  are  not  good  at  all,  must 
pass  by  this  same  way,  or  must  attempt  to  pass.  They  cannot. 
Weighed  down  with  many  a  heavy  sin,  their  feet  much  clogged 
with  earthly  wealth,  their  eyes  bedim.med  with  Stygian  smoke  that 
rolls  up  from  the  jaws  of  hell  that  open  wide  beneath,  they  tread 
upon  the  filmy  bridge,  picking  their  uncertain  steps.  No  close- 
packed  rows  of  winged  ones  come  to  stay  their  tottering  steps, 
and  soon  they  waver,  stagger ;  down,  down  they  go,  straight  to 


264  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  darksome  abyss  where  all  the  wicked  go,  where  angels  never 
go,  into  that  realm  of  darkness,  fire,  and  death,  —  the  home  of 
Lucifer.  Such  is  the  story  of  the  mural  stone  that  now  projects 
from  this  old  time-stained  wall.  Such  is  the  Moslem  story. 
Christians  don't  believe  it ;  they  have  a  different  way,  somewhat 
explained,  of  reaching  the  same  end.  You  have  read  it ;  so  we 
will  go  ahead  and  see  the  mosque. 

You  can't  get  in  without  a  permit ;  you  must  be  guarded  by 
a  Turk ;  you  must  pay  five  francs'  admission-fee  ;  you  must  put 
off  your  shoes,  for  all  the  place,  to  Moslem  eyes  and  thought, 
is  very  holy  ground.  Not  until  within  a  few  years  past  could  any 
Christian  enter  here.  Like  the  Meccan  temple  and  the  younger 
St.  Sophia,  it  is  a  very  sacred  place.  For  did  not  Mahomet  start 
from  here  to  heaven  to  see  the  powers  above,  to  see  the  prophets 
and  the  patriarchs  who  live  above  the  skies,  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  his  followers  there?  You  say  you  don't  believe  it. 
Well,  if  you  care  to  be  convinced,  stride  across  the  marble  thresh- 
old, pass  within  these  lofty  opened  gates,  come  along  the  richly 
inlaid  marble  floor,  approach  this  rough  old  stone  encircled  by 
a  costly  metal  rail.  Here  is  the  stone  ;  Dome  of  the  Rock  is 
its  name.  Upon  its  spacious  surface  Abraham  built  his  altar 
and  piled  the  wood,  while  Isaac  stood  and  looked  ;  and  here  the 
intent  father  drew  his  sharpened  knife,  placed  one  hand  upon 
his  wondering  darling's  head  and  pushed  it  back.  The  cold  and 
keen-edged  blade  was  in  the  other  hand,  uplifted  and  about 
to  fall  upon  the  youthful,  blue-veined  throat,  when  swift  an  angel 
swooped  from  heaven's  high  walls,  and  stayed  the  awful  blow. 
Dost  thou  believe  ?     Would  you  have  done  as  much  ? 

This  is  Mount  Moriah ;  this  stone  is  the  crest  and  dome. 
From  this  did  Mahomet  mount  on  high.  Just  put  your  fingers 
there,  you  doubting  one.  Those  are  his  footprints.  Now  look 
there.  There  is  where  Gabriel,  chief  of  the  angelic  hosts,  caught 
the  stone  and  held  it  back  lest  it  should  mount  to  heaven  with 
Mahomet.  You  see  the  footprints,  Gabriel's  finger-prints  ;  you 
see  the  very  tongue  with  which  this  stone  has  talked.  You  must 
believe.  Footprints  of  men  and  gods  are  often  seen  in  stone. 
Buddha's  you  '11  see  at  Benares,  —  Adam's  Peak ;  Saint  Paul's 
you  '11  see  at  Puteoli ;  and  Christ's  you  '11  see  at  Mosque  El  Aksa 
and  over  there  in  Rome.  A  hundred  millions  do  believe  these 
things  to  be  true  ;  why  not  you  and  I  ?     This  stone  is  of  most 


BIBLE  LANDS.  26$ 

prodigious  weight,  some  forty  feet  across,  suspended  in  mid-air  ! 
At  least  tlie  Moslems  tell  you  so,  and  every  one  believes ;  for  as 
it  started  on  its  heavenly  way,  and  when  it  got  about  ten  feet 
in  air,  did  not  the  angel  bid  it  stop?  And  stop  it  did,  and 
there  it  rests  without  support,  save  that  great  power  invisible. 
Hard  to  believe  ?  And  so  are  many  things.  One  must  have 
faith.  Not  having  that,  where  are  you?  We  did  not  see  under- 
neath the  entire  stone,  nor  did  we  make  dispute  with  the  attend- 
ant priests  who  showed  us  round  ;  we  heard  the  statement  and 
went  on  our  way. 

It  is  a  glorious  house,  this  mosque,  founded  on  the  place 
where  Solomon's  Temple  stood,  beneath  a  lofty,  airy,  noble  dome, 
upheld  by  columns  of  the  rarest  marbles.  You  will  have  to  travel 
far  and  wide  to  see  such  costly  monoliths  as  these.  They  say 
that  some  of  these  were  in  the  ancient  Temple,  and  you  will 
be  shown  pearly  marbles  with  quaintly  intertwisted  shafts,  and 
capitals  curiously  carved,  from  the  same  illustrious  fane  ;  and  you 
would  believe  it  so,  for  surely  that  grand  Jewish  shrine  contained 
works  of  art  most  worthy  to  be  preserved.  The  quarries  of  the 
world  afford  no  fairer  stones  than  such  as  we  see  here.  The 
mosque  is  lofty,  spacious,  grand.  No  other  building  here  ap- 
proaches it  in  substantial  magnificence.  Its  marbles,  colored 
glass,  its  pavements,  metal  work,  its  carpets,  hangings,  lamps,  — 
all  are  excellent ;  its  arabesques  are  enchanting ;  you  move  about 
from  one  choice  piece  to  another,  wishing  your  stay  were  hours 
instead  of  moments,  to  feast  the  more  upon  these  rare  gifts  of 
nature  and  of  art. 

From  Omar's  mosque  you  pass  to  that  of  El  Aksa — "mosque 
of  the  golden-plated  doors"  —  within  the  same  enclosure,  built 
at  first  for  Christian  worship  by  Emperor  Justinian.  Its  lofty 
nave  stands  upon  massive  subterranean  vaults,  as  do  the  acres  of 
paved  platform  adjoining  it.  The  columns  are  not  handsome, 
and  the  Moslems  have  whitewashed  all  its  decorations.  Con- 
spicuous are  many  Koran  texts  graven  here  and  there  ;  the  walls 
are  niched  for  ornaments  and  shrines,  and  round  about  are  chapel 
stalls  for  prayer.  Near  the  lofty  pulpit  sat  a  listening  crowd  of 
Moslem  folks  intent  upon  the  preaching  priest,  who  talked  most 
earnestly.  The  day  was  our  Sunday,  which  made  it  all  the  more 
interesting.  The  few  w-ords  we  caught  told  our  inferior  under- 
standing of  Allah  and  ]\Iahomet,  as  though  it  were  a  Christian 


266  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

scene,  and  the  minister  were  discoursing  upon  God  and  Christ. 
Near  by  you  see  the  stone,  which  early  pilgrims  tell  about, 
that  bears  the  footprint  of  Our  Lord ;  and  also  near  by  those 
columns,  close  together,  between  which  none  in  unlawful  wed- 
lock can  pass,  and  such  as  are  unworthy  to  enter  heaven  can- 
not go  between.  Our  party  made  no  trial,  —  most  of  us  are 
rather  stout.  The  inner  faces  of  these  stones  are  somewhat  worn 
away,  showing  that  people  not  too  small  have  had  many  an 
earnest  struggle  to  "  prove  their  title  clear  to  mansions  in  the 
skies."  We  tried,  without  success,  a  similar  pair  at  Cairo  ;  and 
having  grown  no  smaller  yet  —  or  better  either  —  we  let  the 
contest  pass. 

Descending  now,  we  pass  into  the  crypt,  containing  some 
prayer  chapels,  also  the  real  cradle  of  Christ.  They  tell  you 
that  the  Blessed  Virgin  spent  some  days  here  after  her  presen- 
tation in  the  Temple.  The  vast  substructures  that  support  the 
outer  court  are  called  the  stables  of  Solomon,  but  are  probably 
all  of  Roman  make  ;  surely  not  earlier.  We  climb  into  the  upper 
air  again,  and  from  the  city  wall  get  fine  views  of  Olivet,  Geth- 
semane,  and  deep  Jehosaphat,  which  means  "  God's  judgment." 
Those  rock-cut  tombs  in  the  deep  valley  down  below  are  those 
of  Zacharias,  the  same  who  was  stoned  for  setting  himself  up  as 
a  prophet ;  of  Absalom,  the  pet  son  of  David  by  his  dashing 
Assyrian  wife,  and  who  made  his  father  too  much  trouble ;  and 
that  of  King  Jehosaphat,  who  made  it  warm  for  idolaters.  You 
would  be  glad  to  believe  these  things  true  ;  but  alas,  Jehosaphat's 
tomb  is  no  tomb  at  all,  —  only  a  solid  mass  of  stone  with  pyrami- 
dal top ;  and  this  and  the  others  are  all  of  Roman  days. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  26/ 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

BIBLE   LANDS. 

Good-by  to  Jerusalem.  —  Our  Cavalcade  through  Old  Historic  Lands. 
—  Shiloh,  "  Place  of  Peace."  —  At  Jacob's  Well.  —  Sichem  and 
Samaria.  —  The  Tomb  of  John  the  Baptist.  —  On  the  Judaean  Plains.  — 
Nazareth.  —  Cana  and  Galilee.  —  Banias  and  Damascus.  —  Comparing 
Notes  with  a  Village  Sheik. — The  Ruins  of  Baalbec.  —  Resting  at 
Beirut.  —  The  Best  Way  to  Travel  in  the  Holy  Land. 

GOOD-BY,  Jerusalem ;  good-by  to  Bethlehem ;  good-by, 
Jehosaphat  and  Hmnom  vale.  Our  saddled  steeds  are 
at  the  door ;  the  palanquin  and  mules  are  here,  —  the  madam's 
wheelless  coach  ;  the  sumpter  mule  has  got  his  luncheon  on  ;  and 
tents  and  kitchen,  bed  and  board,  have  started  from  Damascus 
Gate,  to  take  the  road  to  Nazareth  and  Galilee,  Baalbec  and  Beirut, 
to  take  a  ship  and  sail  away.  Good-by  to  dirty  streets  and  pious 
points,  to  David's  house  and  Omar's  mosque  ;  good-by  to  chapels, 
church,  and  shrine.  We  mount  and  ride  away.  The  route  is 
northward  through  the  stony  roads  and  fields.  These  stones  are 
myriad.  The  like  you  never  saw.  Suppose  you  have  some  fields 
walled  in  with  stones,  the  walls  a  thousand  feet  apart,  some  more 
and  many  less,  and  ten  or  twelve  feet  wide  upon  the  top,  sur- 
rounding heaps  of  stone.  The  so-called  cultivated  lands,  so 
stonily  framed,  abound  in  smaller  stone,  —  small  rubble-stone, 
macadam,  if  you  please,  —  as  if  it  were  hauled  and  spread  upon 
the  soil  a  good  six  inches  deep.  Set  the  plough  to  work,  —  these 
wooden,  wood  or  iron  pointed,  single-handled  ploughs,  the  long 
beam  running  to  the  straight  pole  they  call  a  yoke.  Run  this 
thing  about  through  the  stone  and  soil,  and  mix  them  up.  Then 
sow  broadcast  the  seed  in  autumn  time,  and  let  it  sprout  amid 
the  winter  rain  and  fasten  roots  among  the  multitude  of  rock 
and  scarcity  of  earth.  Would  you  believe  it?  Next  season 
gives  a  fair  sort  of  crop. 

This  stone  is  different  from  ours.     In  Yankee-land,  where  most 
of  the  vegetable  mould  is  washed  down  from  the  hills,  it  leaves 


268  A    GIRDLE  ROUiYD    THE  EARTH. 

the  barren  gravel  without  nutrition,  and  in  it  no  grain  and  very 
little  grass  can  grow.  This  stone  is  of  a  different  kind,  —  vol- 
canic sort  of  tufa  stuff,  which,  as  it  slowly  rots  away,  becomes 
fat  soil,  none  better  in  the  world  for  raising  fruit  and  grain. 
The  best  fruit-raising  soil  in  the  Italian  states  or  in  volcanic  Malta 
is  that  which  lies  about  Vesuvius'  side  and  base,  or  has  been 
made  from  pounded  scoriae.  But  for  this,  these  old  Judsean  hills 
would  long  have  been  a  barren  waste.  Too  many  of  them  now 
have  been  washed  off  in  the  centuries  that  have  passed,  leaving 
only  stone  in  their  place,  most  barren,  bleak,  and  verdureless, 
not  even  fit  for  grazing  goats. 

But  we  are  on  our  way  through  old  historic  lands,  —  along  the 
ancient  Roman  road  over  which  Vespasian,  Titus,  Hadrian,  led 
their  troops  ;  along  which  conquering  Alexander  came  three 
centuries  b.  c.  to  take  the  Judtean  capital,  within  whose  temple, 
so  they  say,  he  worshipped,  in  deference  to  a  dream  he  once 
had  dreamed,  the  true  and  living  God ;  along  which  men  have 
come  and  men  have  gone  for  many  centuries  and  years.  We 
pass  now  through  the  land  where  Samuel  lived ;  over  on  yon- 
der hill  they  show  his  tomb ;  and  over  there  is  the  old-time  hill 
of  Gaban,  in  the  land  of  Saul,  where  Respa's  sons  were  slain  by 
David's  order,  to  appease  the  anger  of  the  living  God ;  where 
Respa  stayed  beside  her  sons,  so  crucified,  from  early  harvest-time 
till  rainfall  came  and  water  dropped  upon  them  out  of  heaven ; 
and  with  the  bones  of  Saul,  and  those  of  his  own  brother  Jona- 
than, they  buried  here  those  of  Respa's  slain.  And  over  there  is 
Gibeon,  a  little  to  the  west,  yet  not  far  off,  where  Joshua,  who 
fought  five  kings  in  the  evening  of  the  day,  constrained  the  Lord  to 
stay  the  setting  of  the  sun,  that  he  might  have  daylight  in  which  to 
whip  the  allied  force.  Here,  too.  King  David  met  Isobeth's 
troops,  in  sight  of  where  we  pick  our  way  along,  when  twelve 
champions  from  either  side  stood  forth  from  out  the  ranks  and 
fought  each  other  furiously,  —  even  to  the  death  of  all  the  twenty- 
four.  This  is  mentioned  as  the  original  of  the  Kilkenny-cat  story. 
And  here  the  degraded  Joab  murdered  Amasa,  to  keep  him  from 
being  promoted  to  his  place  ;  and  riglit  here  Solomon,  still  later, 
burned  alive  a  thousand  wicked  heathen,  and  asked  God  to  clothe 
his  murderous  mind  with  wisdom  from  on  high.  It  is  overpow- 
ering, quite,  to  ride  along,  even  in  drizzling  rain,  among  such 
rare  historic  scenes. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  269 

And  close  by  here  is  Rama,  where  the  woman  Deborah,  be- 
tween Rama  town  and  Bethel,  sat  beneath  a  palm-tree  and 
judged  Israel.  The  palm-tree  is  no  more  ;  the  Israelites  have 
given  over  the  country  to  the  Arabs ;  the  fountain  is  dried  up, 
and  all  the  land  looks  weary  and  worn-out.  At  Bethel  —  "  temple 
of  the  sun  "  —  the  spot  is  shown  where  Mary  and  her  spouse  missed 
Jesus  from  the  party  of  Nazarenes  returning  from  Jerusalem,  and 
turning  back,  found  him  discussing  matters  with  priests  within 
the  Temple,  and  took  him  home  with  them.  A  handsome 
church  was  built  here  once,  but  time  has  levelled  it.  No  Chris- 
tians live  here  now,  only  some  tawny  Arabs.  But  Bethel  lives 
in  history ;  for  here,  they  say,  did  Abraham  tell  his  nephew  Lot 
to  take  his  share  of  cows  and  goats  and  sheep  and  go  his  way. 
You  know  their  herdsmen  had  a  quarrel  that  caused  a  dissolution 
of  this  earliest  cattle-firm,  —  which  goes  a  long  way  to  show  that 
cowboys  then  were  just  as  bad  as  now.  Here  Jacob,  fleeing  from 
his  much-wronged  brother's  wrath,  lay  down  to  rest,  his  pillow 
made  of  stone  ;  his  bed,  too,  for  that  matter,  for  it  would  per- 
plex any  fair-sized  man  to  find  a  place  round  here  where  he 
might  lie  or  pillow  on  anything  else.  The  ladder  that  he  saw, 
and  the  winged  angels  on  its  countless  rungs,  made  up  a  glorious 
dream.  Here,  too,  in  after  days,  when  he  got  rich  in  Laban's 
land  and  returned  upon  his  long-delayed  bridal  tour,  did  Jacob 
build  an  altar  to  our  God,  and  make  an  offering  here  ;  -and  here 
his  good  wife's  nurse,  Deborah,  died,  and  here  they  buried  her. 
Here  Jeroboam  raised  on  high  a  golden  calf  and  made  unto  it 
offerings,  which  cost  the  wicked  priests  their  lives,  and  brought 
upon  himself  a  withered  arm.  And  not  far  from  here  the  forty 
saucy  gamins  were  eaten  up  by  hungry  bears  because  they  hooted 
at  Elisha,  and  jeered  at  his  bald  head,  when  he  was  coming  here 
from  Jericho.  But  the  temple  of  the  golden  calf  is  gone  ;  gone  is 
the  Crusade  church  once  builded  here ;  gone  are  the  altars  and 
the  old-time  tombs  ;  gone,  too,  is  Samuel's  judgment  seat.  Left 
only  are  some  pagans,  some  old  sculptured  building  stone,  the 
same  old  spring,  and  all  the  stone,  and  more,  that  Jacob 
rested  on. 

We  passed  the  historic  Bethel  region,  and  pushed  on  towards 
Ain  Heremeyeh,  the  Robber's  Spring,  where  we  spent  the  first 
night  out  of  Jerusalem  on  our  northward  way.  Much  of  the 
country  thtough  which  we  pass  is  surely  uninteresting,  and  the 


2/0  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

roads  —  the  paths  I  ought  to  say  —  are  very  bad  indeed.  Our 
outfit  plods  along  and  picks  precarious  footing  over  ways  that 
never  are  repaired,  and  down  the  rocky  beds  of  furious  mountain 
torrents  where  now  no  water  flows.  Robber's  Spring  is  a  curi- 
ous, cosey  place,  down  in  a  deep  valley,  with  gushing  springs  and 
ruins  of  an  ancient  kahn.  It  was  a  perfect  pocket.  The  bluffs 
on  either  side  were  very  steep  and  high  ;  the  outlets,  right  and 
left,  walled  in  with  transverse  spurs  restricting  your  horizon  round 
about  to  a  mile  or  two.  A  place  like  it  you  '11  seldom  find,  — 
so  snugly  protected  from  the  winds,  so  watered,  warm,  and 
comfortable. 

We  pass  many  rocky  roads  and  villages  and  olive  groves, 
where  men  are  ploughing  in  the  fields,  as  men  have  done  no 
end  of  years.  The  rain  sifts  down  an  hour  or  two  ;  the  clouds 
break  open  once  again,  and  here  we  are  by  Shiloh,  —  home  of 
the  Hebrews  many  years  before  they  owned  Jerusalem  ;  place 
of  the  Covenantal  Ark  —  the  Shiloh  —  "  place  of  peace."  Here 
Joshua  allotted  the  promised  land ;  here  Hannah,  wife  of 
Elkanah,  besought  the  Lord  to  grant  to  her  a  son.  The  prayer 
was  heard ;  the  son  was  Samuel,  and  what  he  did  you  know. 
Reining  outside  the  beaten  stony  path,  we  came  unto  these 
vvoful  ruins.  Stones  were  lying  all  about,  and  desolation  was 
everywhere.  A  lonely,  once  fair  sycamore,  now  blown  down  by 
the  winds,  rested  its  weary,  leafless  head  upon  the  remnant  ruin, 
—  a  well-built  synagogue,  perhaps,  built  up  of  rough-hewn  stones. 
We  bowed  ourselves  to  save  our  heads,  and  entered  in.  The 
doors  are  gone.  They  once  were  double,  one  arched,  one 
square.  Within,  amid  the  tumbled  rocks,  stands  one  roughly 
hewn  column,  supporting,  as  in  the  days  of  old,  and  before 
Samuel's  day,  the  roof  of  this  poor  pile.  Here,  perhaps,  rested 
the  Ark  of  God,  —  that  precious  Ark  in  which  was  all  the  Hebrew 
faith  and  trust,  a  gift  to  them  from  God.  The  place  is  holy  yet, 
but  none  come  to  protect  it.  Round  about  are  random  stone, 
some  straggling  weeds  and  briers  :  a  scene  most  desolate.  We 
picked  our  way  down  the  steep  hill,  through  the  almost  barren 
fields.  The  country  round  about  is  a  bushy,  barren  waste,  with 
only  here  and  there  a  place  to  plough  the  earth  and  scratch  in 
a  litde  seed.  And  this  is  the  same  Shiloh  where  the  Covenant 
was  kept  more  than  three  hundred  years  !  The  whole  town  site, 
and  suburbs  all  thrown  in,  is  not  worth  a  dollar. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  2/1 

We  clamber  down  more  hills,  along  more  vales,  and  stumble 
round  about  among  the  rocks  and  rolling  stone,  and  eat  our 
lunch  in  sight  of  far-off  Hermon.  A  glorious  mount  is  Hermon, 
with  silver  crown  of  snow.  A  few  hours  more,  and  we  come  to 
Jacob's  well.  When  Jacob  came  back  home  from  Laban's 
country  and  brought  his  wife  along,  and  lots  of  sheep  and  cattle, 
he  took  a  fancy  to  this  tract  of  land  that  is  near  to  Sichem  and 
at  the  very  foot  of  Mount  Gerizim,  "  desert  mountain,"  which 
he  bought  for  a  hundred  sheep.  We  went  to  see  his  well.  The 
most  of  the  authorities  believe  that  this  is  the  veritable  well 
that  Jacob  dug  upon  the  land  he  bought.  He  got  the  property 
cheap  because  it  was  not  watered.  The  well  is  some  seventy 
feet  deep  and  is  now  useless.  You  climb  a  mound  of  rubbish, 
—  what  is  left  of  a  fine  old  Crusade  Christian  church  that  once 
stood  there.  The  old  granite  columns  and  foundation  stones 
are  lying  about ;  and  coming  to  an  arched  spot  that  once  was  the 
church's  crypt  or  vaults,  an  Arab  boy  jumps  down,  and  through 
a  joint  in  the  great  flat  stones  that  cover  up  the  well,  lets  fall  a 
pebble,  which  plashes  into  the  unused  waters  many  feet  below. 
Here  Christ  met  the  Samaritan  woman.  Near  by  is  Joseph's 
tomb  ;  not  far  from  here  the  place  where  he  was  sold  to  go  to 
Egypt ;  right  over  there  —  ten  minutes'  walk  from  this  well  — 
his  people  laid  his  bones  which  they  brought  sorrowing  home. 

Now  this  is  Nablous  —  meaning  Neapolis,  "the  new  city." 
Sichem  is  its  ancient  name.  Once  of  the  Israelite,  then  the 
Samaritan,  it  is  now  ruled  by  the  Turk.  "  By  the  rivers  of  Baby- 
lon there  we  sat  down ;  yea,  we  wept  when  we  remembered  Zion." 
The  Jew  went  wrong.  The  Assyrian  came  and  spoiled  his  land  ; 
laid  waste  Jerusalem.  The  Jews  were  huddled  in  a  drove  like 
cattle  and  driven  in  a  lot  avt^ay  to  Assyria.  The  Assyrians  re- 
peopled  this  promised  land  with  strangers  to  the  Jewish  laws, 
their  customs,  and  their  creeds.  In  driving  forth  this  people  to 
Babylonish  lands,  some  Jews  were  left  behind,  —  those  of  the  far- 
off  country  towns,  those  who  were  hidden  in  the  mountain  dens. 
These  mingled  with  the  stranger  class  that  the  conquerors  sent 
in  to  possess  the  land,  and  a  new  race  was  formed,  called  the 
Samaritans.  Samaria  was  their  capital  town,  but  they  lived  here 
in  Sichem,  owning  the  town  and  all  the  country  round.  The 
woman  of  Samaria  who  met  Christ  at  the  well,  and  asked  him 
that  pointed  question  which  was  answered  so  that  the  Christian 


2/2  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

world  has  never  tired  of  reading  it  and  reflecting  over  it,  was  a 
Nablous  girl,  a  woman  who  carried  water  here  to  drink  and 
cook  her  food  as  girls  and  women  do  now.  You  like  the  stately, 
upright  figure  of  these  women.  They  stand  erect ;  the  poorest 
of  them  tread  the  ground  like  queens,  their  drapery  falling  round 
their  limbs  in  quiet,  pliant  folds.  But  they  are  not  pretty.  You 
like  their  gait,  their  independent,  easy,  normal  pose,  uncramped 
by  fashion's  stays  or  fashion's  shoes  or  fashion's  anything ;  but 
come  to  see  their  face  and  eyes  —  well,  they  are  only  Arabs ; 
let  them  go  their  ways. 

The  Jews  came  back  from  Babylon,  —  not  those  who  went  down 
there  as  captives ;  but  their  children  came  and  set  themselves 
at  work  to  build  anew  its  walls,  smooth  down  the  rocky  debris 
that  defaced  the  place,  mark  out  new  streets,  and  gain  new 
habitations.  The  Samaritans  were  there.  They  kindly  offered 
help  to  the  returning  hosts  from  Babylon,  to  rebuild  the  walls 
and  raise  anew  the  temple.  The  Jew  declined,  refused  the  aid 
of  any  who  were  not  purely  of  the  seed  of  Abraham.  So  then 
and  in  after  years  the  Jew  and  Samaritan  were  twain  ;  the  latter 
a  reproach,  a  heretic.  So  when  the  woman  asked  why  Christ 
made  the  request,  there  was  no  lack  of  reason  in  her  words  or 
in  his  reply. 

So  that  is  classic  ground  we  tented  on.  We  found  our  tents 
within  an  olive  grove.  The  people  gathered  around.  The  wo- 
men came  to  bring  us  water  from  their  wells,  —  those  upright, 
gayly  attired,  tawny  women  ;  others  came  with  fish  and  eggs, 
and  others  came  to  look  about,  —  men,  women,  boys,  and  girls,  — 
to  see  the  strangers'  ways.  They  said  that  they  were  Christians  ; 
but  it  made  us  sad  to  hear  our  dragomans  warning  us  to  look 
out  for  them  or  they  would  steal.  Those  bright-eyed  lads  and 
lovely  girls,  that  they  should  be  thieves  we  could  hardly  believe  ; 
but  we  took  precaution  all  the  same. 

To  spend  the  time  ere  dinner  came,  we  went  into  the  city. 
A  tall  and  turbaned  Samaritan  came  and  asked  us  to  his  meet- 
ing-house. We  went,  and  through  such  streets  as  you  never 
saw,  —  through  narrow  streets  whose  rough-laid  pavements, 
worn  beneath  so  many  unshod  feet,  were  slippery  as  ice  ;  such 
narrow  streets,  arched-in  overhead,  long,  crooked,  treacherous, 
and  full  of  human  life.  We  went  up  old-time  steps  and  crooked 
lanes,  and  came  unto  the  only  Samaritan  church  in   Sichem. 


BIBLE  LAXDS.  273 

Approaching  the  door,  we  looked  within  the  dingy  church  and 
on  the  matted  floors,  the  low  and  whitewashed  arches  overhead, 
the  tawdry  altar,  pulpit,  screen,  and  all  of  tliat ;  when  the  priest 
brought  us  the  Bible,  wound  on  rods  from  each  end,  the  rods 
embellished  with  large  golden  knobs.  This  was  the  Pentateuch, 
—  all  they  had  of  Bible,  —  and  for  a  franc  they  then  unrolled 
their  volume.  It  dates,  they  said,  from  remote  times,  —  in  fact, 
was  written  by  the  prophet  Aaron's  grandson.  Maybe  it  was  ; 
it  is  surely  very  old.  Then  we  went  through  the  rather  clean 
and  slippery  streets,  where  wheels  have  never  rolled  ;  went  to 
the  markets  ;  saw  the  soaps  they  make  of  olive -oil,  the  goods 
they  offer  there  for  sale,  the  people's  ways,  and  the  manners  of 
the  streets ;  and  then  went  back  to  find  our  tents  and  eat  our 
dinner  there  by  candle-light. 

Samaria  was  on  our  route  next  day,  —  once  a  mighty  city, 
capital  of  the  Samaritans  ;  now  but  a  poor  place  on  the  hill,  with 
many  lonely  Roman  columns  standing  round  about  that  tell  of 
temples  long  since  passed  away ;  of  theatres,  now  grass-grown, 
where  the  well-dressed  listeners  sat,  and  where  actors  said  their 
parts ;  of  stadia,  whose  sanded  track  and  graded  tiers  of  seats 
have  disappeared  to  give  the  plough  and  \ine  a  chance.  These 
shafts  have  now  a  lonely  look.  Would  they  could  speak  and  tell 
us  of  the  story  that  they  know,  tell  us  of  that  night  of  revelry 
when  haughty  Herodias  claimed  the  Baptist's  head,  for  they 
surely  saw  it  brought  in  bleeding  on  the  tray ;  saw  much  of 
Herod  and  his  Roman  master,  the  great  Augustus  ;  saw  many  a 
prince  and  Roman  officer  who  came  here  to  the  routs,  the  bloody 
contests  at  the  arena  games ;  saw  Ceesar's  dauntless  troops ; 
heard  him  and  Herod  plot  to  keep  rebellious  Jews  in  check. 
Saint  John  the  Baptist's  tomb  is  here  within  the  church,  —  within 
the  crypt  beneath  the  ruined  nave  of  that  old  Crusade  church, 
built  here  seven  hundred  years  ago.  The  Moslem  and  the 
Christian  now  preserve  it  for  the  revenue  it  brings.  We  pay 
some  francs,  and  then  pass  down  some  twenty  steps  into  the 
tomb  below.  Here  they  say  the  prophets  Elisha  and  Abdias 
were  laid,  and  close  by  them  the  murdered  John.  They  tell 
you,  too,  that  the  hatred  of  this  fearless  man  did  not  end  with 
taking  off  his  head,  but  that  his  tomb  was  violated,  his  bones 
burned  to  ashes,  and  scattered  on  the  fields.  But  his  tomb  is 
here,  his  and  the  prophets' ;  and  just  outside  the  present  shabby 

iS 


2/4  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

town,  the  time-worn  columns  stand  that  saw  these  men  and 
heard  what  good  they  did  ;  but  they  '11  not  tell  you,  for,  like  the 
martyred  Baptist,  their  heads  also  are  gone.  Other  spots  claim 
the  Baptist's  resting-place  ;  in  fact,  despite  of  burned  bones  and 
scattered  ashes,  you  will  find  much  of  his  body  over  there  in 
Italy ;  and  ladies  travelling  there  have  been  too  often  vexed  at 
being  kept  from  the  places  where  Saint  John's  remains  are  laid 
away.  Samaria  once  was  beautiful,  —  the  home  of  wealth  and 
pride  and  power ;  the  scene  of  many  great  events.  The  fields 
it  looks  down  upon  are  broad  and  rich  ;  the  Hermon  range  is 
far  away  in  sight ;  near  by  is  Dothan,  where  his  brethren  sold 
the  gayly  coated  Joseph  to  go  south ;  here  Israel  had  its  capi- 
tal seven  hundred  years  before  our  Lord  was  born  ;  here  idols 
stood  and  prophets  told  their  fate  ;  here  Saint  Philip  preached 
the  new  gospel ;  and  yet  the  Greek  Church  holds  the  Christian 
fort,  and  keeps  the  Moslem  hosts  at  bay. 

That  night  we  slept  at  Ain  Jenen,  on  the  outer  limit  of  the 
great  Esdraelon  plain,  having  passed  the  fortress  of  rebellious 
Sanur  and  the  Bethar  ruins,  lunched  in  the  valley  beneath  the 
olive-trees,  and  helped  to  plough  some  soil.  The  native 
thought  we  fooled  with  him  when,  taking  the  single  handle  from 
his  grasp,  we  pushed  him  off,  and  bade  him  drive  his  steers  ahead. 
But  his  curiosity  overcame  him,  and  away  we  went.  The  ground 
was  two  thirds  stone,  —  a  fair  macadam  ;  but  the  soil  beneath  was 
soft  and  rich,  and  with  the  wooden  thing  we  did  some  clever 
work.  The  Arab  farmer  and  his  son  were  really  astounded 
that  the  kawaga  was  so  ty  yib  ketir,  "  very  good  indeed,"  at 
holding  the  plough.  Seeing  we  were  a  natural  farmer  he  was 
pleased,  and  told  how  rich  was  the  soil  he  owned,  how  many 
sons  he  had,  and  what  he  raised  upon  his  farm.  We  bantered 
with  him  for  his  plough ;  failing  in  that,  we  priced  his  line-back 
steers,  —  yearlings  they  were,  but  very  bright  and  true,  for  which 
he  asked  forty  dollars.  They  were  not  dear,  but  we  left  them 
till  we  should  come  again. 

Jenin  is  where,  the  legends  say,  Christ  healed  a  lot  of  lepers. 
It  is  not  much  of  a  place  ;  a  good  spring,  good  grass,  but  a  cold 
camping  spot,  on  the  verge  of  glorious  Esdraelon.  For  six  long 
hours  we  rode  across  that  ever-fertile  plain,  farmed  every  inch 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  —  ploughed,  seeded,  cropped  for 
all  the  time   that  history  knows,   no  telling  how  much  more. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  275 

Manure  was  never  used,  nor  has  the  land  been  irrigated  ;  and  yet 
each  season  brings  its  abundant  harvest.  Every  acre  is  stained 
with  human  blood.  Richest  and  loveliest  of  all  Judcean  plains, 
reaching  from  the  Jordan  to  the  sea,  its  owners  are  envied, 
and  ever  on  the  watch  for  those  who  would  come  and  take  it 
to  themselves.  Here  fought  King  Saul  and  lost  his  life, —  he 
and  his  two  sons.  Here  was  Naboth's  vineyard,  where  he  was 
stoned  because  he  would  not  sell  it  to  the  king ;  here  is  the 
village  of  Jezarel,  where  from  the  window  of  her  house  fell  Queen 
Jezebel  and  broke  her  jewelled  neck ;  here  Joram  came  to  get 
more  health,  and  Judah's  king  came  out  one  day  to  see  how  he 
got  along ;  here  both  were  slain  by  Jehu,  who  right  here  caught 
King  Ahab's  seventy  sons  and  had  their  heads  cut  off  and  piled 
in  heaps  before  the  gates  of  this  old  city,  Jezarel,  whose  site  we 
pass  near  by,  where  pock-marked  women  at  the  well  draw 
water  still  and  call  for  bakshish  fearlessly.  Here,  too,  we  see 
another  ruined  place  ;  here  Benhadad  lost  a  hundred  thousand 
men  while  fighting  Ahab,  and  some  thirty  thousand  more  died 
beneath  the  falling  city  walls.  Here  came  the  men  who  fought 
with  Gideon,  —  the  men  who  lapped  up  water  like  dogs,  and 
slew  the  Midianites.  Here,  too,  Elisha  raised  from  death  to  life 
again  the  good  woman's  son  ;  here  David  procured  the  woman 
Abisa  when  he  was  old  and  weak.  Here  on  this  plain  Adam 
lived  and  told  the  sons  of  Seth  what  he  remembered  of  the  de- 
lights of  Paradise ;  and  over  there  is  the  land  where  Cain  took 
refuge  after  Abel's  death,  and  where  he  was  killed  by  Lamech  ; 
here  his  descendants  took  their  wives,  and  here  they  raised  up 
giants.  We  pass  by  Gilboa  mount ;  the  village  of  Nain,  whereto 
came  Christ  and  raised  the  widow's  son  to  life ;  the  village  of 
Endor,  where  slept  in  death  the  witch  that  Saul  invoked  to  get 
his  fortune  told.  Here,  too,  is  glorious  Tabor,  —  lonely  moun- 
tain, tall  and  round  and  fair,  —  scene,  some  say,  of  the  trans- 
figured Christ ;  and  here  to  its  base  came  Bonaparte  and  slew  one 
day  —  what  for  I  do  not  know  —  some  forty  thousand  men. 

And  now  we  come  to  Nazareth.  We  scale  a  rugged  moun- 
tain scarp  that  overlooks  the  famous  plain  we  came  across,  —  a 
thousand  newly  ploughed,  fenceless,  treeless,  stoneless  fields ;  a 
thousand  fine  green  tracts  of  winter  wheat ;  a  thousand  flocks  of 
horses,  cattle,  sheep,  and  goats  grazing  leisurely.  For  countless 
ages  fields  of  blood  and  grain  ;  for  countless  ages  land  of  thrift 


2/6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  spoil.  Winding  about  among  the  almost  roadless  rocks, 
we  turn  a  corner.  Here  is  Nazareth,  despised  Nazareth,  the 
mountain  town  where  Joseph  lived  and  used  the  plane  and 
saw ;  where  Virgin  Mary  lived  and  wrought  in  flax  and  wool ; 
where  Christ  lived  many  years  and  grew  to  manhood's  state  ; 
whence  he  went  forth  to  preach  that  all  mankind  could  live  ; 
went  forth  to  fill  his  mission,  bear  the  cross,  and  die  on  Calvary. 
We  camped  within  the  town,  near  by  the  Virgin  Spring. 
About  this  spring,  as  when  Mary  brought  her  pitcher  here, 
and  the  young  boy  Jesus  came  to  quench  his  thirst,  were  gath- 
ered many  girls,  each  with  her  water-jug  upon  her  head,  each 
dressed  in  flowing  skirts  of  warmly  tinted  print,  filling  their  ves- 
sels at  the  gushing  spout,  chatting  and  laughing,  talking  of  vil- 
lage trifles,  joking  of  their  whims  and  loves,  as  they  did  so  many 
years  ago  when  Mary  came  to  fill  her  vessel  there,  when  Christ 
passed  by  to  go  to  Cana's  wedding  feast,  or  on  to  green-shored 
Galilee.  We  went  into  the  pretty  church  where  mass  was  being 
said,  where  many  little  children  knelt  and  kissed  the  floor ; 
went  down  the  steps  that  lead  to  the  spot  where  Mary  sat  at 
work  within  her  house  when  the  Angel  Gabriel  came  to  tell  her 
of  God's  will  concerning  the  Christ  that  was  to  come.  The 
rocks  are  there,  the  native  stone  on  which  her  house  was 
built ;  the  house  itself,  they  say,  was  picked  up  bodily  just  be- 
fore the  impious  INIoslem  came,  and  was  borne  on  angel  wings 
to  Torsato,  by  the  Adriatic  Sea,  a.  d.  1291,  then  to  Recanto, 
then  to  Loretto,  in  Italy,  where  it  stands  to-day,  almost  as  good 
as  new,  and  to  it  good  Latin  pilgrims  go  as  they  have  done 
some  six  hundred  years.  The  kindly  priest  points  out  the  ob- 
jects and  places  you  want  to  see,  —  the  very  place  where  INlary 
sat  when  Gabriel  came  unbidden  in ;  the  fragment  of  a  column 
yet  hangs  above  that  sacred  spot.  The  spot  she  sat  upon  all 
pious  pilgrims  kneel  before  and  kiss,  and  mothers  bring  their 
prattling  babies  to  see,  then,  often  weeping,  go  away.  You  see 
the  shop  where  Joseph  fashioned  beams  and  boards ;  they 
showed  us  two  of  them,  both  made  of  stone,  both  cleanly  white- 
washed,—  chapels  each  for  prayer.  They  showed  us  the  huge 
stone  table  unto  which  Christ  and  his  disciples  came  and 
supped  after  his  resurrection  from  the  dead.  It  was  a  solid 
mass  of  chalky  stone,  eleven  and  a  half  feet  long,  and  nine 
and  a  half  feet  wide. 


BIBLE  LANDS.  2'J'J 

Next  morning  we  strike  our  tents  and  move  away.  The 
water  women  come  to  see  us  off;  tlie  matron  who  came  in 
yesterday  and  browned  our  coffee,  then  beat  it  into  powder  in 
a  brazen  mortar,  was  there  to  gather  gifts  of  coin ;  the  girls 
were  clustered  at  the  spring,  chatting  away  as  good  girls  will. 
The  morn  is  fair  and  bright,  and  away  we  start  for  Cana  and 
Galilee.  The  road  is  very  bad.  We  pick  our  way  among  the 
rolling  stones  that  show  no  moss  ;  pass  Gath  Hepher,  where 
Jonah  was  born,  and  where  one  of  his  tombs  is  shown,  —  for  he 
has  several ;  then  come  through  thick-set  cactus  hedges,  even 
unto  Cana.  The  Greek  priest  takes  a  fee  and  opens  up  the 
room  in  which  the  wedding  feast  was  served ;  points  out  the 
place  where  Jesus  stood  ;  points  out  the  jar  that  was  for  wine, 
and  the  one  that  was  for  water.  These  jars  are  also  in  Cologne, 
and  elsewhere ;  but  it  is  all  right,  —  the  more  of  them  the 
better. 

On  we  ride,  to  Galilee;  on  past  the  Mount  of  the  Beatitudes, — 
scene  of  the  wondrous  Sermon  which  you  may  read  in  Matthew, 
chapter  fifth.  It  is  not  a  mountain,  but  a  very  pretty  hill,  well 
clad  in  green,  and  near  its  base  large  herds  of  cattle  grazed. 
From  here  you  view  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Down  the  steep  side- 
hill  two  thousand  feet  or  more,  amid  the  grazing  lands  and 
cultivated  fields,  we  come  within  Tiberias's  crumbling  walls,  and 
pitch  our  tents  beneath  the  great  round  cracked  Roman  towers, 
in  view  of  placid  Galilee,  near  by  Capernaum,  where  once  was 
Peter's  house  ;  near  unto  ruined  INIagdala,  whence  came  the 
Magdalenes  ;  before  the  spot  where  were  so  many  fishes  caught, 
and  where  the  Saviour  walked  upon  the  restless  wave.  We 
sailed  about  upon  its  still,  clear  waters ;  tramped  among  the 
rank  Capernaum  weeds  to  find  the  site  of  Peter's  house,  and 
camped  again  upon  its  shore.  From  Galilee  —  "  the  rolling  sun  " 
—  the  caravan  moves  on  to  Banias.  The  journey  takes  two  days  ; 
the  way  is  like  unto  the  ways  of  the  wicked,  —  very  bad.  Some- 
times it  goes  through  vales  of  green,  sometimes  along  clear 
brooks  and  past  cool  gushing  springs,  but  oftener  by  rough  and 
rugged  ways,  where  one  should  heed  his  footsteps  lest  he  fall. 
These  streams  are  from  Mount  Hermon.  The  evening  air  is 
charged  with  Hermon  dew,  the  nights  are  chill,  the  mornings 
full  of  shiverings.  These  laughing  rivulets,  so  fair  and  clear, 
haste  on  to  fill  the  Sea  of  Galilee.     While  waiting  there  they 


2/8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

gain  no  stain,  and  leave  the  once  clear  Galilean  pool  as  your 
pure  children  leave  their  homes.  No  sooner  is  it  left  than  the 
waters  take  on  worldly  taint,  gather  mud,  and  all  the  distance 
to  the  sea  of  Death,  down  in  the  noisome  vale  where  sinful 
Sodom  stood,  near  by  that  spot  where  Mother  Lot  was  turned 
to  salt,  they  grow  from  bad  to  worse,  and  glide  into  the  purga- 
torial sea  a  stream  of  liquid  filth.  There  it  is  purified.  The  mud 
and  filth  are  taken  out ;  the  burning,  resurrecting  sun  lifts  it  up  ; 
it  mounts  on  wings  unseen,  and  forms  aloft  soft  fleecy  clouds  that 
float  in  misty  pictures  through  the  upper  air ;  and  at  the  dawn 
you  find  it  glistening,  diamond-bright,  on  every  blade  and  leaf. 

You  have  seen  foul  water  in  gutters  by  the  streets,  so  full  of 
mud  and  stench  that  you  might  say  it  contained  nothing  that 
was  pure.  Next  morn  you  pluck  a  lovely  rose,  and  on  its  per- 
fumed petals  see  bright  drops  of  flashing  dew,  lovelier  far  than 
regal  gem.  Observe  it  well ;  for  those  most  perfect  aqueous 
gems  yester  morn  made  part  of  that  same  nauseous  pool  in 
which  you  saw  no  good.  The  resurrecting  sun  has  made  this 
change,  wrought  out  this  wondrous  miracle.  The  dross  is  left 
behind ;  the  purity  within  it,  which  it  could  not  kill,  stands 
radiant  in  your  sight.  So,  too,  the  soul  that  God  has  breathed 
into  your  mortal  clay,  and  which  no  earthly  sin  can  long  con- 
taminate, shall  at  the  end  be  raised  aloft,  in  perfect,  deathless 
radiance. 

In  leaving  Galilee,  you  almost  quit  the  Holy  Land.  Not 
sorry  are  you,  either ;  for  down  in  that  deep-cut  vale,  where 
stood  Saint  Peter's  fishing  hut,  and  where  Magdala's  daughters 
lived  in  sin,  down  by  that  Jordan  lake  into  which  ran  the 
bedevilled  swine,  lurks  fell  disease.  Among  its  damps  are  pes- 
tilential fevers  ;  it  is  a  most  unwholesome  spot.  You  say  good- 
by  with  pleasure,  mount,  and  ride  away,  glad  that  the  lurking 
virus  has  not  befouled  your  blood.  The  way  is  by  the  old  bleak 
moor,  by  mountain  paths  and  nomad  Bedouin  camps ;  by  Ain 
Malaha,  "  beauteous  spring,"  where  you  alight  and  lunch ;  by 
lively  streams,  along  the  long  since  worn-out  Roman  road, 
through  mud  and  fields  of  wheat  and  maize,  through  rushing 
brooks  and  over  Roman  arches  thrown  across  the  streams, 
over  the  ruins  of  the  old-time  Dan,  the  northmost  point  of  the 
Jud^an  realm.  There  you  come  to  Banias.  All  day  has  snow- 
capped Hermon  been  in  view ;  for  two  days  you  have  seen  his 


BIBLE  LANDS.  279 

gleaming  head,  and  hoped  at  last  to  cross  his  footstool  hills  and 
reach  the  promised  land,  Damascus. 

We  turned  aside  to  look  at  Dan,  place  of  the  Judges  ;  but 
there  is  nothing  there  but  a  lonely-looking  mound  of  rubbish. 
Near  by  grow  grand  old  trees,  and  here  is  one  of  the  upper 
Jordan's  mighty  springs.  We  dismount  a  moment,  stretch  out 
upon  the  rocks,  and  take  a  hearty  drink  of  Jordan  water  at  the 
fountain-head,  —  cool,  fresh,  and  sweet  as  melted  snows  from 
Hermon's  crest.  The  ride  beyond  is  short,  and  soon  we  come 
to  camp. 

Banias,  —  Pan  of  the  Greeks,  within  whose  mountain  cave  that 
god  was  long-time  worshipped  ;  Cffisarea-Philippi  of  the  Augus- 
tan days,  when  Palestine  was  held  by  Rome  ;  Neronias  of  Nero's 
dark  career ;  and  now  the  old-time  name  asserts  its  sway,  and 
Pan  is  here  again,  pronounced  by  the  nativ^es  "  Ban-ias."  The 
way  we  came  was  rough.  The  once  rich  fields  and  fruit-crowned 
heights  are  now  gone  to  waste  ;  the  grand  old  Roman  road,  that 
once  passed  this  way,  is  difficult  to  find.  We  crossed  a  three- 
arched  Roman  bridge  back  there  an  hour  ago,  —  a  noble  bridge. 
So  well  were  its  hewn  and  cemented  arches  made  that  all  these 
nineteen  hundred  years  of  gnawing  time  and  dashing  stream 
have  not  torn  them  away.  The  road  is  fearful  there  as  you 
approach,  and  as  you  leave  it  you  find  the  great  stone  flags  with 
which  that  people  paved  their  roads  have  not  worn  out ;  but 
go  a  hundred  feet  beyond,  and  all  is  desolation.  The  road  is 
gone.  Gone  are  its  pavements,  —  the  whole  place  so  strewn  with 
stone  that  your  safe-stepping  horse  can  hardly  pick  his  way. 

Mighty  men  those  Romans  were.  You  see  their  roads  and 
bridges  everywhere  ;  their  castles,  kahns,  and  old-time  works. 
They  had  some  faults,  like  other  men ;  but  blessings  on  people 
that  build  good  roads  upon  the  land  and  span  the  streams  with 
solid  bridges  !  The  Arab  builds  nothing,  and  repairs  nothing 
that  other  men  have  built.  When  the  Roman  bridge  wears  out, 
the  Arab  lets  it  go.  If  a  stone  falls  from  the  bridge,  no  repair 
is  made  ;  if  the  road  or  wall  or  tower  decays,  they  let  it  go  ; 
they  ford  the  stream  as  best  they  may,  and  pick  their  way  among 
the  rocks.  They  want  but  little  here  below,  and  are  content 
with  less. 

No  one  can  tell  when  the  city  was  begun,  who  built  its  walls, 
or  who  fashioned  out  the  cave  of  Pan.     We  hear  of  all  these 


280  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

things  and  see  the  work  of  ruin  here  and  there,  but  all  is  lost  in 
darkness.  We  pitch  our  tents  upon  an  old-time  terrace  of  a 
spacious  garden,  in  an  orchard  of  most  venerable  olive-trees. 
Over  against  us,  separated  by  an  inwalled  stream,  is  another 
spacious  garden  tract,  with  bits  of  walls  and  great  foundation 
stone,  perhaps  of  fountains,  there  among  the  trees,  or  where 
once  some  statues  stood.  The  garden  space  is  very  large,  and 
on  beyond  you  hear  the  noise  of  rushing  waters,  which  you 
push  on  to  find.  Forth  from  beneath  the  rocks  in  front  of  the 
great  cave,  and  underneath  the  towering  ledge  in  wliich  are  cut 
many  a  deep  and  shell-crowned  niche,  rushes  a  flood  of  purest 
water  three  hundred  feet  in  width,  or  more.  It  is  not  a  spring, 
but  a  subterranean  river  that  finds  sudden  egress  here,  and 
forms  at  once  a  mighty  stream  that  goes  rushing  down  a  single 
channel  on  a  stony  bed,  —  down  through  the  noble  garden,  under- 
neath a  low-arched  Roman  bridge,  its  surface  filled  with  leaping 
waves,  down  the  walled-in  bed,  down  past  the  deep  foundation 
walls  of  a  once  noble  castle,  down  past  the  tall  Saracen  gate  and 
underneath  another  bridge,  through  the  grounds  where  noble 
gardens  were  and  many  a  marble  statue  stood  and  many  a  mar- 
ble fountain  played,  —  down,  down  to  meet  the  waters  of  the 
springs  of  Dan,  and  form  there  the  chief  branch  of  the  sacred 
Jordan,  Jordan  is  not  born  of  tiny  springs  and  brooklets,  like 
most  other  rivers,  but  it  comes  from  underneath  this  rocky  grot 
in  a  rush  of  mighty  waters. 

Banias  is  dead.  A  few  Arab  huts  are  here,  built  of  mud  and 
stone  used  in  the  palaces  in  olden  time.  Here  once  were  the 
noble  summer  resorts  of  the  Roman  emperor.  Here  were  Ves- 
pasian's palaces  and  gardens.  Here  Titus  spent  some  time,  and 
in  the  arena  here  made  captive  Jews  engage  in  gladiatorial  fights. 
Here  were  races  run  in  the  great  stadium,  and  to  its  theatres 
came  famous  men  and  women.  Over  the  rushing  spring  great 
marble  temples  stood,  and  crowning  the  bold  ledge  above  the 
cave  of  Pan  another  radiant  many-columned  temple  flashed  in 
the  bright  sunlight.  Upon  the  mountain  spur  that  overlooks 
the  town  stand  the  embattled  walls  of  a  most  extensive  castle, 
within  whose  ample  space  ten  thousand  troops  might  gather. 
Even  now  it  is  the  best  preserved  of  all  the  Roman  castles.  It 
was  first  built  in  the  Phoenician  days,  before  Greece  or  Rome 
was  born  ;  then  added  to  by  other  warlike  nations.     Now  it  is 


BIBLE  LANDS.  28 1 

a  useless  wreck.  The  country  where  it  stands  is  now  too  poor 
to  need  protection.  The  men  that  piled  its  mighty  walls  have 
passed  away ;  the  armies  of  the  prehistoric  days  that  gathered 
here,  the  allied  armies  of  the  Grecian  states,  the  mighty  legions 
of  all-conquering  Rome,  —  they  have  all  been  here  and  made 
most  vigorous  war  ;  the  very  maps  their  generals  changed  to  suit 
themselves  ;  all  these  have  come  and  gone,  leaving  what  you 
see  behind.  Gone  are  the  armies  of  the  Greek  ;  long  gone  the 
Roman  legions,  waiting  here  to  fall  like  mountain  avalanche  upon 
rebellious  provinces  ;  gone  are  the  arms,  the  enginery  of  war ; 
and  in  these  silent  courts  where  weary  warriors  slept  and  harnessed 
chariots  waited  for  the  fray,  grow  grass  and  weeds.  The  prowl- 
ing jackal  burrows  where  the  war-worn  generals  spread  their  mats, 
and  eagles  build  their  nests  in  the  angles  of  her  battlements. 

This  place  about  the  gardens  where  we  tent  gives  melancholy 
thoughts.  In  prosperous  Roman  days  no  lovelier  mountain 
spot  was  known.  The  scenery  bold  and  picturesque,  abundant 
springs,  the  finest  lands  and  flowers  and  fruits,  a  mighty  castle 
palace,  temples,  aqueducts,  theatres  where  Athenian  stars  came 
to  shine  before  the  nobles  gathered  here,  the  arena,  stadium, 
mighty  walls  and  gates,  —  these  with  copious  fountains,  statues 
rare,  in  richly  fruited,  spacious  gardens  that  rose  bench  on  bench, 
all  these,  secure  beneath  the  vigilance  of  yonder  mighty  fort, 
made  up  a  place  of  untold  excellence.  In  ages  past  Bacchus 
was  worshipped  here  in  temples  by  this  rushing  spring.  Then 
came  the  Greek ;  and  Pan  abode  within  this  spacious  cave,  and 
lovely  temples  rose  to  do  him  honor,  and  here  in  his  name  were 
miracles  performed.  Then  came  the  Roman  ;  and  Pan  suc- 
cumbed to  Jupiter,  yet  greater  temples  rose  ;  the  waters  were 
made  to  contribute  to  beauty  everywhere.  For  centuries  this 
place  was  a  paradise.  Then  came  destruction.  The  empire 
fell ;  earthquakes  shook  the  temples  down  and  made  the  famous 
cave  a  wreck.  The  palaces  and  pleasure  halls  and  aqueducts 
and  towers  and  walls  went  down  beneath  the  touch  of  ruin. 
One  gate,  a  Roman  bridge  or  two,  part  of  an  aqueduct  that  gave 
fresh  water  to  fountains,  bath,  and  outer  fields,  and  some  foun- 
dation arches,  pavements  here  and  there,  —  these  are  left,  as  sad 
reminders  of  the  glorious  past. 

But  the  spring  sends  forth  its  wealth  of  sparkling  v.-aters  now 
as  when  CiEsar  watched  its   wild  career  beneath  the   marble 


282  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

bridge.  Its  melodies  are  now  as  then  ;  its  offices  are  sadly  less ; 
but  every  day  it  sprays  the  struggling  garden  flowers,  and  yields 
a  freshness  to  these  olive-trees.  Striking  our  tents,  our  horses 
clamber  down  the  terrace  steep  and  through  the  broken  aque- 
duct. Along  the  once  smooth,  now  old  pavement,  worn  and 
tossed,  we  pick  our  way ;  over  the  still  firm  bridge  that  spans 
the  noisy  stream  ;  out  among  the  dozen  Arab  hovels,  all  that  is 
left  of  human  habitation  there ;  up,  up  we  mount  along  old 
roads  and  paths,  benched-up  gardens  once,  with  fruit  and  olive 
groves  ;  up  past  old-time  noble  homes  that  overlooked  the  city 
Dan,  and  the  far-off  valley  of  the  Hasbany ;  up,  up  we  climb 
the  Hermon  foothills,  then  past  the  untamed  mountain  Druses 
in  their  close-built  villages,  then  on  through  stony  ways  to  tent 
by  hunter  Nimrod's  tomb,  then  on  again  to  fair  Damascus. 

Now  we  are  done  with  Palestine.  We  now  have  passed  by  Dan, 
the  northernmost  point,  and  come  to  gentile  lands.  We  have 
told  you  where  to  find  primeval  Adam's  tomb,  and  where  our 
Mother  Eve  was  laid  to  rest ;  we  have  tented  near  Abel's  grave, 
and  named  the  place  where  Abel  died  ;  we  have  scoured  the 
land  of  Abraham,  —  the  place  where  Jacob  dug  his  well  and 
Joseph  rests  by  Sichem's  walls ;  have  named  the  place  where 
Noah  sleeps  and  Lot's  wife  was  turned  to  salt ;  where  Jonah 
rests,  and  Samuel  too,  and  many  a  noted  Israelite  has  left  his 
bones ;  have  told  you  of  many  a  Christian  place  where  Jesus 
and  the  apostles  were,  and  treasured  miracles  were  wrought ; 
we  have  taken  you  to  Jordan's  stream,  and  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee  ; 
where  Jacob  slept  on  heaps  of  stone,  and  Joshua  fought  and 
won  the  land  and  wet  the  earth  with  blood  of  innocents ;  have 
told  you  about  Jerusalem  and  Bethany  and  Bethlehem.  The 
land  beyond  is  heathen  land.  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  a  change,  and 
long  for  Damascus,  —  city  of  the  fruitful  plain,  —  that  was  a  city 
ere  the  days  of  Noah,  went  safely  through  the  flood,  and  is  a 
teeming  city  yet,  with  wall  and  tower  and  minaret. 

Would  you  go  to  Palestine?  Stay  at  home  and  read  your 
books.  Would  you  see  the  places  where  the  Jewish  kings  lived, 
the  prophets  and  the  Pharisees  ?  Buy  photographs  and  travel 
otherwhere.  In  many  things  in  life  you  expect  frauds  and 
tricks  and  devious  ways  of  men  and  general  moral  hazard  ;  but 
you  have  an  inner  sort  of  thought  that  all  is  fair  in  Bible  lands. 
Then  hold  your  thought  and  cherish  your  belief,  and  come  not 


BIBLE  LANDS.  283 

here  to  find  that  there  is  nothing  too  sacred  on  the  earth  for 
sons  of  Christian  men  to  trade  upon.  You  have  behef  to-day 
that  Judaea  was  the  real  spot  of  all  this  bright  and  lovely  earth 
that  God  most  smiled  upon.  It  gives  you  comfort  to  believe  ; 
then  come  not  here,  lest  you  may  doubt. 

Damascus  defies  history.  The  word  is  damesek,  name  of  a 
heavy  silken  stuff  for  which  the  place  was  ever  noted.  It  is 
older  than  Egyptian  or  biblical  history,  older  than  the  days  of 
Abraham,  reaching  farther  back  than  even  Moses  knew.  In  the 
book  of  Genesis  you  find  it  named  as  already  a  well-known 
city.  Its  kings  and  rivers  are  spoken  of  at  many  places  in  the 
Holy  Book,  and  in  all  other  books  relating  to  this  Asia  Minor 
land  you  find  Damascus  mentioned.  Before  the  days  of  Baby- 
Ion  there  was  a  city  here.  Before  the  Jews  knew  Judaea,  or 
heard  of  the  Red  Sea ;  while  yet  Grecian  places  were  a  wilder- 
ness, and  Rome  was  in  the  far  future ;  while  Europe  was  a 
forest  from  end  to  end,  and  the  solemn  Sphinx  was  hidden 
in  its  desert  mountain  spur,  —  even  then  Damascus  throve  with 
trade,  a  sturdy  city  in  a  lovely  plain.  What  of  history  it  has 
you  have  upon  your  shelves ;  it  is  most  replete  with  pagan, 
Christian,  Moslem  interest. 

We  came  to  it  across  an  outstretched  plain,  where  for  more 
years  than  you  have  hairs  the  plough  has  been  at  work,  and 
copious  streams  from  Lebanon  have  fertilized  the  soil ;  yet  to 
this  day  the  yearly  crops  are  good ;  the  fig  and  date  and  olive 
tree  abound  in  fruit,  and  grain  grows  here  to  make  good  bread. 
Here  cattle  thrive,  and  sheep  and  goats ;  here  wooden  ploughs 
and  wooden  hoes  and  picks  stir  up  the  earth,  and  farmers'  sons 
are  farmers  yet,  and  have  no  longings  for  the  world  beyond. 
We  came  upon  Damascus  suddenly.  Coming  along  the  dusty 
modern  road  to  the  brow  of  the  higher  table-land,  all  the  glorious 
scene  breaks  into  view  at  once.  Closed  in  with  hills  on  every 
side  but  one,  and  resting  there  outspread  in  great  extent,  you 
see  Damascus  and  its  miles  and  miles  of  surrounding  gardens,  — 
vision  of  the  Moslem  paradise  :  city  walls,  tapering  minaret, 
domes  in  soft  repose  ;  the  roofs  of  many  dwellings,  palaces,  and 
well-built  bazaars  ;  the  homes  of  wealth  amid  the  lovely  trees 
bursting  into  bloom,  —  the  fig,  the  almond,  apricot,  and  plum  ; 
the  cherry-tree  and  peach  and  pear  and  vine  ;  the  orange  and 


284  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  lemon  tree,  pomegranate  and  the  prune,  all  clustered  here 
with  silver  poplars,  sycamore,  and  cypress,  watered  by  those 
noble  streams  that  come  laughing  down  from  Lebanon.  All 
through  these  city  streets  and  among  these  gardens  rare  do 
these  sweet  waters  stray,  bursting  forth  in  fountains  fair  in 
every  house,  in  cooling  draughts  among  the  busy  streets,  the 
walled-in  streams,  or  yet  in  the  sparkling  pool,  pure  as  the 
streams  that  flow  through  Paradise. 

We  come  within  its  lowly  walls,  along  its  narrow  lanes  that 
trail  between  the  high  earth  garden  walls,  wind  on  amid  the 
blossomed  trees,  and  breathe  the  perfumed  air,  and  stop  at  last 
within  the  marble-flagged  and  fountained  court  of  our  long- 
sought  hotel.  It  was  once  the  home  of  a  retired  Damascene, 
with  cosey  court' and  fountains  cool,  rooms  with  raised  floors  and 
rooms  in  curious  arabesques,  and  this  year  changed  into  a 
grand  hotel.  We  saw  the  city  from  the  minaret  next  day,  —  its 
buildings,  gardens,  trees  in  vernal  bloom,  —  and  thought  had  we 
been  taught  that  this  was  the  chosen  land  on  which  Jehovah's 
warmest  smile  had  fallen,  instead  of  on  Jerusalem,  we  could 
have  had  no  doubt  of  it.  And  is  it  not  yet  possible  that  men 
'  have  made  mistakes  and  got  their  names  of  towns  mixed  up  ? 
For  surely  on  Jerusalem  you  find  no  traces  of  His  smile,  but 
rather  frowns  and  signs  of  wrath.  God  smiles  upon  this  city  of 
the  plain,  but  scowls  on  the  Judsean  one.  He  smiles  here,  and 
joyous  brooks  leap  forth ;  He  smiles  here,  and  the  bright  birds 
sing;  He  smiles  here,  and  the  roses  bloom,  the  fruit-trees  wave 
their  incense-laden  boughs,  and  all  Nature  praises  Him.  Not 
so  in  cold  Jerusalem,  —  a  stony  heart,  a  scowling  brow,  with  not 
a  garden,  rill,  or  bower,  without  a  fountain  or  a  flower,  a  place 
of  wrath  and  bitterness. 

Damascus  mosques  are  many.  We  cared  for  only  one, —  in 
part  a  lofty  Christian  church,  upon  whose  bronze  veneered 
doors  you  see  the  chalice  figured  yet ;  you  see  the  noble  col- 
umns, many  swinging  lamps,  the  marble  pavements  covered  with 
softest  Oriental  carpetry,  with  here  and  there  fine  bits  of  gold 
mosaic-work,  fountains  of  pure  water,  pulpit,  tomb  of  the  great 
Saladin,  and  that  of  good  Saint  John.  They  say  the  Baptist's 
head  was  brought  here  by  the  early  Christians  and  buried ; 
and  in  those  days  when  Christians  had  this  grand  old  church, 
their   favorite     oath  —  for   Christians    sometimes    swear  —  was 


BIBLE  LANDS.  285 

"by  the  head  of  John;"  and  to  this  day  the  Arab  swears 
by  the  head  of  "  Yahia,"  —  John.  How  the  saint's  head  got 
here  you  need  not  try  to  know.  Some  say  it  was  buried  at 
Samaria,  others  at  Ephesus.  Near  by  the  tomb  of  Saint  John's 
head  stands  the  Dome  of  Treasure,  a  small  place  into  which 
the  famous  Christian  books  were  piled  and  walled  up  by  the 
conquering  Khalid.  Revering  books,  he  would  not  have  them 
burned ;  yet  not  liking  Christian  books,  as  their  teachings  were 
contrary  to  the  Koran,  he  walled  them  in  with  stone  and  brick 
that  they  might  do  no  harm.  Some  day  when  Christian  people 
resume  power  in  this  land,  when  the  fierce  Russian  stakes  his 
war-steeds  in  the  minaret  court,  these  stone  and  brick  will  yield 
to  pick  and  bar,  and  some  rare  books  may  come  to  light  again. 

We  wander  round  and  look  at  pillars  fair  and  curious  capital, 
and  watch  the  sporting  children  at  the  spring ;  read  cufic  writ- 
ing on  the  old  tombstones,  and  see  the  women  around  the  letter- 
writer's  desk  sending  some  word  to  husband,  sweetheart,  friend ; 
then  climb  the  vulture  minaret,  and  scan  the  curious  walls,  hear 
the  stories  the  attendants  tell,  resume  our  boots,  and  go  to  the  ba- 
zaars. We  had  been  told  tliat  tradesmen  here  were  sullen  folks 
who  would  hardly  look  on  Christian  dogs,  or  offer  such  their  wares  ; 
but  this  is  all  romance.  We  found  them  in  their  little  nooks  of 
stores,  sitting  among  their  metals,  silks,  and  provisions,  sweets 
and  pipes,  —  polite,  attentive  business  men,  who  have  a  dozen 
prices,  but  do  not  push  away  a  grain  of  Christian  gold,  —  as 
anxious  for  your  trade  as  though  you  were  a  Turk  and  billed 
for  Paradise.  The  dogs  you  find  here,  —  some  fat,  some  lean, 
—  all  lying  around,  too  lazy  to  move  or  bark  or  worry  fleas. 
Only  when  hunger  calls  them  out  do  they  hunt  the  garbish 
heaps,  and  thus  keep  the  city  clean.  There  is  many  a  city  we 
have  seen  outside  of  pagan  lands  that  needs  such  scavengers. 

We  spent  a  day  or  two  among  the  old  Damascus  streets,  then 
took  to  our  saddles  again.  There  is  an  excellent  carriage-road 
from  here  to  Beirut,  —  five-and-forty  miles  away,  —  built  by  the 
French  and  operated  by  them  ;  but  we  were  booked  for  Baalbec 
overland,  across  the  rugged  hills  and  over  rocky  steeps,  —  three 
tiresome  days  away.  The  first  night  out  we  camped  by  Abel's 
tomb,  by  the  head-waters  of  the  Barada,  —  the  Abana  of  old 
Bible  times,  one  of  the  streams  that  General  Naaman  bragged 
of.     He  was  right,  if  there  is  anything  in  appearances.     His 


286  A    GIRDLE  HOUND    THE  EARTH. 

house  is  in  Damascus  yet,  —  a  leper  hospital.  The  village 
sheik  came  up  and  had  a  smoke,  a  drink  of  claret,  and  an 
evening  chat  with  us.  He  told  us  of  his  village  and  his  home, 
four  wives  and  ten  fine  children,  —  all  but  nine  of  whom,  he 
said,  were  sons.  Comparing  notes  and  photographs,  he  rather 
liked  my  hand,  but  bragged  on  his  as  winner  of  four  wives  to 
one,  nine  girls  to  two,  —  "  Better  for  my  tribe,"  he  laughingly 
said,  and  lit  a  fresh  cigar. 

"  Tell  me,  O  sheik,  how  many  are  there  in  your  tribe,  your 
village,  —  old  and  young,  counting  men  and  women?  " 

"  About  six  hundred,"  he  replied. 

"  How  much  tax  do  you  pay  the  Government?" 

"  About  fifty-five  thousand  piastres  every  year."  That  is  about 
two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  a  trifle  less,  —  about  four 
dollars  per  capita. 

"  But  if  the  Government  should  choose  to  make  it  higher, 
what  would  you  do?" 

"  The  Government  will  not ;  the  people  would  make  com- 
plaint. The  tax  has  been  the  same  since  my  father  died,  and 
the  same  before." 

"  When  you  want  some  money  to  buy  some  sheep,  what 
do  you  do?" 

"  I  go  to  Damascus  and  borrow  it." 

"  If  you  borrow  five  hundred  piastres  for  a  year,  how  much 
do  you  pay  back  when  the  year  is  up?  " 

"  Sometimes  five  hundred  and  fifty  or  sixty  or  seventy  piastres. 
If  man  pay  good,  he  pay  less  ;  if  he  not  so  good,  he  pay  more." 

"  Who  does  the  business  for  your  tribe,  —  collects  and  pays 
the  taxes,  borrows  money,  and  all  that  ?  " 

"  I  do.  I  am  sheik.  The  Government  makes  me  pay ;  I 
make  my  people  pay." 

"  If  one  of  your  tribe  wants  to  borrow  money,  how  does  he 
get  it?" 

"  Oh,  sometimes  of  a  neighbor,  sometimes  of  me.  If  I  have 
not  got  it,  I  go  and  get  it  for  him  in  Damascus.  I  pay,  and  then 
he  pays  me." 

"  But  if  his  neighbor  has  it  or  if  you  have  it  to  lend,  what  rate 
of  interest  do  you  charge?  " 

"  About  twelve  per  cent  a  year." 

"  I  thought  the  Koran  forbade  you  to  take  interest?  " 


BIBLE  LANDS.  2^7 

"  Can't  help.  Some  say  they  can't  take  interest ;  but  they 
don't  have  money  to  loan." 

"  But  don't  all  good  Moslems  do  as  the  Koran  says?  " 
"Yes,  about  like  Christians  do  with  what  their  Bible  says." 
Mankind  are  much  alike.  These  Arab  villages  have  a  ding}% 
shabby  look ;  but  around  them  you  see  show  of  fruit  and  rich 
pastures,  fields  of  wheat  where  irrigation  comes,  plenty  to  eat, 
and  flocks  and  herds  around  with  every  look  of  comfort.  While 
striking  our  tents  next  morning,  all  the  women  of  the  village 
came  to  the  buiying-ground  near  by,  and  gathered  around  a 
new-dug  grave.  They  came  with  doleful  wailing,  in  robes  of 
gayly  colored  stuff,  and  fine,  long  scarfs  of  white.  The  real 
mourners  gathered  round  the  grave,  and  shrieking  aloud,  threw 
dirt  upon  their  heads.  Soon  the  men  appeared  bearing  the 
corse,  and  the  wailing  increased,  but  ended  w'hen  the  body 
was  let  down.  Then  some  of  the  women  moved  away  toward 
the  village  ;  some  loitered  and  trimmed  the  mounds  where  lay 
their  dead,  watered  the  flowers  about  the  graves ;  bent  over, 
seemed  to  kiss  the  spot  where  slept  in  death  the  loved  ones 
gone  before.  Who  have  love  and  hope  ?  Who  have  little  ones 
and  loved  ones  over  there  beyond  the  clouds  and  sun  ?  Only 
you,  and  you,  who  have  been  born  again?  The  love  of  mother 
and  of  child  is  very  strong  in  these  poor  pagans'  hearts.  Will 
God  curse  it,  even  though  they  have  not  heard  of  Jordan's  wave, 
nor  known  a  second  birth  ? 

•  •••••• 

The  way  of  the  wanderer  in  Palestine  is  hard.  The  roads  are 
rough,  the  stones  are  cruel  there.  ]\Iy  governor  fell  from  his 
stumbling  horse  one  day,  and  found  himself  invalid  for  weeks. 
A  faithful  mule  went  down  beneath  his  burden  on  the  heartless 
rocks,  and  was  a  mule  no  more.  The  pelting  snow  came  down 
in  fitful  gusts ;  and  when  we  hunted  in  Yafufeh  vale  for  place 
to  pitch  our  tents,  there  was  no  refuge  from  the  mud  and  rain 
and  sleet.  But  in  a  friendly  village  near  by  we  took  possession 
of  the  mayor's  house,  —  his  palace,  if  you  please.  He  was  away 
on  business.  The  servants  took  us  in  and  built  a  fire,  where  we 
dried  our  clothes  and  spread  our  beds.  Our  rooms  were  on  the 
second  floor;  the  tired  mules  and  horses  had  the  first.  The 
floor  between  us  and  the  tired  beasts  was  made  of  some  poplar 
poles,  then  some  staves,  all  plastered  over  with  mud  mixed  with 


288  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

fine-cut  straw.  This,  fully  dried,  makes  a  solid  floor,  not  to  be 
scrubbed,  but  matted,  and  quite  good  and  warm.  The  flat 
roof  above  our  heads  was  made  in  the  same  way, —  the  hardening 
mud  rolled  down  with  a  stone  roller  when  moistened  by  the 
rain.  Around  the  split-wood  fire  that  blazed  in  the  corner,  we 
sat  and  dried  our  clothes  and  enjoyed  the  Oriental  luxury  around 
us.  The  family  cat  came  in  to  purr  about  our  feet ;  good  Abu 
gave  us  excellent  soups  and  meats ;  we  talked  of  castaways  in 
far-off  heathen  lands,  of  friends  in  happy  ignorance  of  all  we  had 
suffered  here,  counted  our  well-worn  beads,  smoked  in  peace 
our  pipes,  and  went  to  sleep  and  dreams. 

But  morning  came,  and  such  a  morning  !  The  clouds  leaked 
like  a  sieve.  The  dragoman  was  glum  ;  a  mule  had  died  ;  we 
must  not  start,  he  said.  But  start  we  would,  and  start  we  did. 
Of  course  the  rain  was  wet,  but  we  reached  Baalbec  in  four  hours, 
and  found  fires  and  cushions  and  warm  rooms  in  sight  of  the 
grandest  temple  ruins  in  this  weary  land.  Warmed  and  cheered 
again,  we  were  glad  we  came,  glad  of  the  drifting  snow,  with 
which  we  pelted  Arabs. 

Baalbec  !  "  Wonder  of  past  centuries,  wonder  of  future  gen- 
erations ! "  We  had  read  of  it  so  many  times,  yet  knew  it  not. 
I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  it,  except  this  :  that  over  twenty  acres, 
perhaps  more,  are  such  old  temple  walls  and  such  gigantic 
columns,  capitals,  cornices,  as  can  be  seen  nowhere  else  in  Asian 
lands.  It  has  no  satisfactory  history,  as  to  who  built  here  first 
in  this  gigantic  way ;  but  that  the  Roman  wrought  here  last 
before  the  Arab  came  is  plain  to  see.  How  far  he  got  along, 
whether  the  vast  work  was  ever  completed,  no  one  will  ever 
know.  The  ground  is  strewn  with  columns  ninety  odd  inches 
through  and  seventy-five  feet  high ;  with  carven  capital  and 
niched  cornice  work,  the  labor  of  a  giant  race  ;  with  ddbris  from 
these  lofty  walls  and  loftier  roofs  now  here  no  more,  —  a  mighty, 
time-defying  ruin.  You  come  unto  it  as  one  struck  dumb.  The 
lofty  walls  surround  you.  The  prostrate  columns  lie  about,  just 
where  the  earthquake  pitched  them.  Of  these  fifty-six  are  in 
place,  some  standing,  some  leaning,  some  tipping  against  the 
wall,  just  as  they  found  themselves  when  the  heaving  earth  stood 
still  again.  You  take  "a  sample  piece,  —  the  one  that  lies  there 
in  the  quarry  just  beyond  the  town.  There  are  several  in  the 
buildings  just  about  as  large,  but  you  can't  see  the  whole  of  them ; 


BIBLE  LANDS.  289 

but  of  this  one  you  can.  It  looks  like  a  twenty-ton  box  car ; 
but  a  box  car  alongside  this  huge  monolith  would  look  about  as 
large  as  a  Saratoga  trunk.  You  pace  its  length  :  it  is  like  a  city 
block.  You  look  up  :  it  is  like  the  blank  wall  of  a  house.  You 
can't  really  understand  the  thing.  You  try  to  lift  one  end,  but 
don't  succeed  at  all,  so  take  its  measure,  —  take  it  from  the 
records.  The  length  is  seventy-one  feet.  Get  up  and  pace  that 
off.  Its  breadth  is  fourteen  feet ;  its  width  thirteen.  Multiply 
these,  and  see  how  many  cubic  feet  it  has  ;  then  weigh  it :  fifteen 
hundred  tons,  —  stone  enough  to  freight  a  hundred  cars ;  and 
yet  they  were  going  to  carry  this  off  bodily  to  the  temple  and  lift 
it  away  up  somewhere  in  the  wall. 

Could  n't  do  it?  Nonsense  !  In  the  wall  we  have  just  been 
looking  at  there  are  three  smaller  stones  —  sixty-four,  sixty-three 
and  a  half,  and  sixty-two  feet  long,  and  thirteen  feet  the  other 
way ;  the  width  about  the  same.  But  these  were  carried  there 
and  lifted  up  where  they  lie,  some  five-and-twenty  feet  above 
the  ground,  each  weighing  about  twelve  hundred  tons.  You 
needn't  think  that  any  one  shouldered  them  and  took  them  there 
that  way ;  nor  need  you  think,  because  our  puny  race  don't  do 
such  things  without  the  aid  of  steam  or  water  force,  that  tlie  Baal- 
bec  builders  could  n't.  They  did  ;  and  these  huge  stones  were  cut 
and  polished  with  such  exactness  that  a  penknife  blade  would  be 
too  thick  to  pierce  their  joints.  The  Egyptians  did  such  things  ; 
so  did  the  Romans  ;  but  in  no  modern  buildings  do  we  find  such 
feats  of  builders'  skill.  They  claim  for  Egyptian  stone-movers 
that  they  took  a  single  piece  from  Sien  to  Siais  that  weighed  six 
thousand  tons  ;  but  the  stone  is  n't  there  to  prove  it,  —  only  the 
fragments,  after  Cambyses  broke  it  up,  were  figured  on.  Men 
do  some  great  things  in  this  age  of  ours ;  but  see  their  helps. 
Try  them  without  their  steam  and  hydraulic  powers.  The  heathen 
was  ahead,  and  keeps  ahead,  in  feats  of  crude  human  strength. 

How  came  it  that  up  there  in  Bukeia  vale,  penned  in  by 
mountains,  shut  out  from  the  world  —  on  the  high  road  to 
nowhere  —  these  men  built  such  a  gigantic  structure  ?  A  place 
of  worship,  it  no  doubt  was.  The  sun  and  Jupiter  were  wor- 
shipped there  in  time  of  Roman  strength ;  before  them  the  Greek 
worshipped  there,  perhaps ;  or  the  Phoenfcian.  The  history  is 
too  meagre;  no  one  knows.  Rome  had  no  such  temple  scheme, 
neither  had  Athens ;  yet  away  out  there  beyond  the  sea  some 

19 


290  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

forty  miles,  and  at  a  point  of  no  great  place  or  city,  nothing  of 
renown  so  far  as  men  know  now,  tliis  great  work  was  done. 

A  little  village  struggles  here,  with  its  mulberry  gardens,  groves 
of  poplar  and  of  walnut  trees,  and  its  little  streams  from  Ras  al 
Ain,  living  largely  from  the  revenues  the  temple  ruin  brings,  and 
built  upon  an  ancient  graveyard  in  which  the  people  delve  to 
pull  out  bones  of  buried  ones,  and  gather  rings  and  trinkets  from 
bones  of  men  and  women  who  had  not  stripped  off  their  jewelry  at 
their  burial.  Little  did  they  think  that  men  would  come  and 
rob  the  tombs  in  which  they  were  to  rest  until  the  judgment  day. 
Down  beyond  Tarsus  the  other  day  they  struck  a  king's  grave, 
—  one  who  had  been  dead  some  several  thousand  years,  maybe, 
— and  on  his  head  theyfound  his  crown,  —  agolden  crownindeed, 
with  precious  stones  set  round,  —  which  brought  the  finder  two 
hundred  dollars.  Good  find?  Yes,  rather;  but  what  a  savage 
thing  for  man  to  do  !  For  how  many  centuries  hence  will  graves 
of  English  kings,  our  own  presidents,  or  yours,  be  inviolate? 
There  is  only  one  escape,  for  men  are  much  alike,  and  have  no 
reverence  for  the  some-time  dead.  The  Hindu  escapes  it. 
He  cremates,  and  flings  the  ashes  in  the  river.  No  trifling  with 
the  scattered  ashes  of  their  dear  dead. 

The  rough-and-tumble  work  of  our  journey  is  done  ;  the  road 
to  the  ship  is  only  forty  miles,  smooth  as  a  floor.  We  make 
it  in  two  days,  for  at  that  rate  our  pack  train  moves.  We  tent 
at  Maxa.  Morning  and  all  night  a  furious  rain.  The  couple 
want  a  carriage.  Fifty  dollars  is  the  price  to  send  to  Beirut, 
twenty  miles  away,  and  get  one.  Into  saddles,  out  into  the  rain, 
up  the  mountain  in  the  snow ;  down  the  mountain,  fifteen  miles 
of  lovely  sunny  scenery,  zigzag,  hard,  smooth  road  ;  and  then  we 
come  to  Beirut,  go  to  our  hotel,  pull  off"  our  wayworn  clothes,  and 
call  our  journey  finished. 

What  does  it  cost  to  suffer  in  Palestine  ?  You  join  a  mob  of 
pilgrims,  such  as  the  great  contractors  send  out,  and  the  thirty 
days  will  cost  you  thirty  pounds.  A  party  of  four  costs  six  pounds 
daily.  Two  pay  a  little  more  in  proportion,  —  say  eight  dollars 
each  a  day.  The  extras  are  what  you  make  them,  —  a  dollar 
more  perhaps  each  day  for  wine  and  bakshish.  But  the  best 
way,  after  all,  to  do  up  Palestine,  —  as  mentioned  heretofore, — 
is  to  do  it  by  your  fire  at  home,  in  your  arm-chair  and  with  a 
good  book  or  two. 


IN  ASIA   MINOR.  29 1 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

IN   ASIA   MINOR. 

Beirut,  City  of  Alexander. — Missions  and  Colleges.  —  Coasting  the 
Mediterranean.  —  Tripoli.  —  Alexandretta  and  Aleppo.  —  Tarsus,  City 
of  Saint  Paul.  —  Mersina  and  Smyrna. —  Ephesus  and  its  Mighty 
Ruins.  —  The  Isle  of  Rhodes.  —  Up  the  ^gean  Sea.  —  The  Turk- 
ish Dardanelles. 

WE  come  now  to  Beirut.  The  word  means  "  a  well."  It 
was  once  a  well  of  knowledge,  —  home  of  brave  Saint 
George.  Had  you  been  here  sixteen  hundred  years  ago  you 
would  have  found  the  most  popular  law  school  in  the  East, 
Augustus  founded  it  and  gave  it  in  charge  of  men  of  the  highest 
talents.  He  found  the  site  a  ruin,  and  erected  good  buildings, 
temples,  theatres,  and  baths.  Gladiatorial  games  were  instituted 
here ;  and  when  Titus  had  made  it  unusually  hot  for  Jerusalem, 
he  brought  hither,  as  to  other  Roman  towns  along  the  coast, 
numerous  captives,  whom  he  compelled  to  fight  each  other  in 
the  arena  for  the  amusement  of  the  populace.  The  city  has  a 
noble  site,  —  facing  the  sea,  and  gradually  rising  from  the  spa- 
cious  harbor.  The  ascent  continues  here  for  many  miles,  and 
is  rich  in  vines  and  orchards,  and  in  mulberry-trees,  which  pro- 
duce annually  a  vast  amount  of  silk  cocoons,  and  bring  great 
revenue.  The  population  is  largely  Christians,  and  these  have 
gradually  displaced  the  Moslems.  After  the  terrible  massacre  of 
the  Christians  some  five-and-twenty  years  ago  by  Moslems  and 
Druses  at  Damascus  and  in  the  smaller  towns,  many  Christian 
people  came  from  thence  and  settled  here. 

The  American  Presbyterian  Mission  has  been  established  here 
for  more  than  fifty  years,  and  operates  through  Syria  from  this 
centre,  —  having  large  printing  works  and  hospitals.  The 
Catholics,  also,  have  large  foundations  here,  with  schools  and 
colleges.  The  native  Christians  —  Maronites,  as  they  are 
called — are  numerous  here.     They  are  a  thrifty  people  ;    among 


292  A    GIRDLE  ROU.VD    THE  EARTH. 

them  are  merchants  and  manufacturers,  who  do  large  business 
and  have  branch  houses  in  European  business  centres.  Both 
CathoHcs  and  Presbyterians  print  here  many  books  and  tracts 
in  English  and  Arabic,  —  making  their  own  matrices  and  type, 
and  to  a  large  extent  their  paper,  —  and  thus  great  leverage  is 
used  against  the  Moslem  faith.  This  is  not  now  regarded  quite 
complacently  by  the  Turkish  Government,  and  it  is  moving  to 
close  the  smaller  schools  along  the  coast  and  the  interior,  which 
action  hints  of  troubles  yet  to  come. 

But  the  work  cannot  be  suppressed  ;  and  though  many  schools 
have  been  shut  up,  no  further  overt  acts  have  been  perpetrated  ; 
and  the  Turk  knows  now  that  another  massacre  will  brinsr  him 
swift  destruction.  He  finds  himself  in  straitened  lines.  He 
knows  full  well  that  every  school  makes  Christians.  He  knows 
that  some  of  his  Arab  people  hke  to  get  more  thorough  edu- 
cation than  the  Turk  can  give,  which  is  almost  none  at  all. 
He  knows  that  every  Christian  convert  makes  him  another 
natural  enemy,  —  an  enemy  to  his  government,  his  social  life, 
his  ways  of  doing  things.  From  his  standpoint,  he  can  scarcely 
be  blamed  for  trying  to  break  the  toils  with  which  he  is  finding 
himself  enmeshed  ;  no  wonder  he  would  close,  if  he  could,  every 
Christian  school  within  his  realm.  In  a  sense  it  is  his  only 
safety.  In  another  sense  it  would  seal  his  doom.  The  w'ork ' 
has  gone  too  far.  The  Christian  rules  the  great  commercial 
world.  The  Christian  gunboat  holds  the  seas,  the  Christian 
cannon  rules  the  land  ;  and  to  attempt  to  throttle  Christian 
power  would  be  suicide  for  Moslems.  The  Turk,  so  to  speak,  is 
in  a  bad  way.  He  will  shut  up  schools  now  and  then  at  weaker 
points,  but  they  will  start  again.  His  best  remedy  he  will  not 
take,  —  to  found  good  schools  himself,  and  use  such  means  as 
Christians  use.  He  dare  not  put  into  his  ranks  of  war  his 
Christian  subjects,  nor  yet  the  pagan  Druse.  The  Moslems 
only  constitute  his  troops. 

And  yet  let  us  do  him  justice.  We  have  many  schools  and 
mission  points  within  his  realm,  and  to  these  we  send  out  large 
supplies.  All  these  pass  through  his  ports  without  a  cent  of 
revenue.  No  such  concession  is  he  bound  to  make  ;  but  he 
does  it,  just  the  same.  When  the  Turk  brought  goods  to  show 
at  our  Centennial  Exhibition  he  had  to  pay  duty  on  every  dol- 
lar's worth.     There  is  more  good  in  Nazareth  sometimes  than 


IX  ASIA   MIXOR.  293 

we  are  willing  to  admit ;  and  "  the  land  of  the  Lord  "  is  not 
ahvays  the  land  of  the  golden  rule. 

We  sailed  away  from  vigorous  Beirut,  Our  steamer  was  a 
Russian  vessel,  engaged  in  the  coasting  trade ;  so  off  we  went 
to  Tripoli,  Alexandretta,  Alersina,  Rhodes,  Smyrna,  and  Chios, 
and  so  on  to  Constantinople.  At  Tripoli  they  let  us  land,  go 
through  the  bazaars,  and  look  about,  but  the  old  crusader  castle 
doors  were  shut  against  us.  A  tramway  connects  the  city  with 
the  port,  —  a  line  built  by  the  French.  The  freighting  farther 
on  is  done  by  caravans  ;  so  here  meet  the  modern  means  of 
handling  goods  and  those  as  old  as  Abraham.  The  freight  car 
brought  down  fifty  sacks  of  wheat  from  the  city  to  the  port. 
Those  sacks  would  load  twenty-five  camels.  That  is  progress, 
away  out  here  in  Asia  Minor,  where  roads  are  being  built  out 
into  rich  valleys  whose  good  wagon-roads  and  railroad-tracks 
will  bring  in  the  vast  crops  of  wheat  and  other  produce  that  often 
rots  upon  the  field  for  want  or  cost  of  transportation.  While  this 
seems  well  and  good,  —  this  opening  up  of  this  fat  land,  — 
yet  every  bushel  of  grain  that  comes  into  port  from  these  old 
drowsy  lands  stops  another  bushel  from  leaving  America.  The 
Arab  gain  is  Yankee  loss. 

Alexandretta,  the  ancient  Iskanderum,  our  next  stopping-place, 
is  noted  only  for  its  unerring  stupidity  and  for  being  the  seaport 
of  Aleppo,  one  of  the  chief  cities  of  the  Turkish  Empire.  Be- 
yond was  Tarsus,  city  of  Saint  Paul,  which  we  had  planned  to 
see,  by  taking  a  train  at  Mersina  the  next  morning.  The  train 
was  secured  by  telegraph,  but  the  loutish  officials  held  back  the 
mail-bags  some  ten  hours  beyond  our  proper  sailing-time,  and 
thus  prevented  the  excursion.  Mersina  is  the  western  end  of  the 
proposed  Euphrates  railway,  which  is  already  being  operated 
some  forty  miles  by  Mr.  Dobbins,  our  consular  agent  there,  who 
made  our  short  stay  very  interesting.  He  told  us  that  the  Tar- 
sus we  were  thinking  of,  where  Saint  Paul  went  to  school,  was 
twenty  feet  at  least  beneath  the  present  unimportant  Tarsus  ;  that 
of  the  ancient  ruins  little  was  left  save  the  tomb  of  Sardanapalus, 
which  was  very  much  out  of  repair,  not  having  been  much  taken 
care  of  since  the  old  tyrant  was  planted  there,  some  twenty-eight 
hundred  years  ago.  Tarsus  was  one  of  the  three  great  universi- 
ties of  the  pagan  world,  ranking,  among  the  Roman  royalty,  with 
those  of  Athens  or  Alexandria.    And  so  it  came  that  Paul  was  so 


294  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

well  educated  and  versed  in  all  the  languages,  and  gained  his  high 
position  as  a  scholar.  By  trade  he  was  a  tent-maker,  whereby  he 
earned  his  daily  bread  here  and  later  on  at  Ephesus.  Tarsus  was 
then  connected  with  the  sea,  as  now,  by  the  river  Cydnus,  which 
floated  ships.  Now  it  is  worthless  as  a  means  of  transportation 
of  any  sort.  It  was  up  the  Cydnus  that  Cleopatra  came  in  her 
barge  of  state,  and  here  she  and  Antony  first  met.  The  cold- 
watered  Cydnus  is  crossed  by  a  railroad  bridge.  When  the  pile- 
drivers  set  at  work  they  could  n't  drive  the  timber  down,  and 
looking  for  the  reason,  found  the  earth  below  thickly  paved  with 
large  flat  stones  that  covered  graves.  The  same  were  found  upon 
the  river-bed.  The  river  had  changed  its  course,  and  was  run- 
ning above  the  well-cemented  vaults  of  the  old  Tarsans. 

We  move  again,  and  on  to  Smyrna.  The  word  means  "  myrrh." 
From  the  sea  it  looks  like  many  another  town,  —  with  a  well-built 
quay,  along  which  tramways  run ;  hotels,  stores,  and  places  of 
amusement.  Farther  back  the  rough  paved  streets  show  some 
signs  of  slight  antiquity ;  but  most  things  here  are  modern.  A 
railway  runs  to  Adana,  passing  Ephesus.  Our  boat  would  stay 
next  day,  so  we  went  by  rail  to  Ephesus,  —  most  glorious  of  the 
Asia  Minor  cities  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  ;  most  perfect  ruin 
of  a  great  city  you  will  ever  see.  Here  in  a  spacious  harbor  — 
now  a  noisome  swamp  —  there  floated  many  ships.  Here  Diana's 
noble  temple  stood,  —  most  perfect  temple  of  the  day;  one  of 
the  seven  wonders  of  the  world.  And  what  a  ruin  !  The  very 
ground  where  it  was  built  on  charcoal  and  wool  foundations  is 
twenty  feet  beneath  the  soil,  where  recendy  the  British  Museum 
explorer  discovered  it.  The  earth  has  been  removed,  but  nothing 
now  is  left  but  some  foundation  stone  and  here  and  there  a  column, 
a  base,  and  worthless  bit  of  sculptured  marble.  Once  Ephesus 
was  the  glory  of  the  world;  now  it  is  nothing.  Its  treasures  are 
gone ;  you  look  about  now  in  Constantinople  and  in  Italian, 
towns  to  find  its  sculptures  and  its  noble  columns ;  you  see  ity 
marbles  in  the  old  Ephesian  aqueduct  that  winds  across  the  plain, 
itself  a  ruin,  on  the  lofty  piers  of  which  the  storks  have  nests ; 
you  see  its  marbles  in  the  later  mosques  —  they  now  are  ruins  ; 
you  see  them  in  the  huts  and  here  and  there,  —  these  sad 
reminders  of  its  glories  past. 

Not  only  the  Temple  of  Diana,  but  many  another  temple,  was 
builded  here.     Here  was  the  great  stadium  for  games  and  races ; 


IN  ASIA   MIXOR.  295 

here  were  the  famous  Odeon  and  the  less  and  greater  theatres  ; 
here  was  the  magnificent  Agora,  where  the  courts  of  law  were 
held,  and  from  whose  judgment  seat  rushed  Antony,  one  day, 
leaving  a  great  orator's  plea  behind,  to  shake  hands  with 
Cleopatra,  whom  he  had  but  recently  met  while  holding  court 
at  Tarsus,  and  who  was  being  borne  that  w^ay.  Now  the  great 
buildings  are  heaps  of  worthless  ruins ;  the  more  modern  fanes 
that  Christians  built  when  Ephesus  was  the  head  of  the  Christian 
church  are  all  in  ruin  too.  One  stone  alone  I  saw  that  spoke 
to  me.  Among  a  pile  of  rubbish,  just  beyond  a  ruined  wall  and 
gate,  was  a  well-carved  stone  among  the  thorns  and  weeds. 
These  were  the  ruins  of  Saint  Luke's  church,  and  on  the  stone 
within  a  sunken  shield  was  carved  a  cross  and  bull,  —  a  Latin 
cross  with  foliated  ends  ;  a  sturdy,  well-carved  bull,  —  emblems 
of  the  new  religion  and  the  old  ;  the  foremost  emblems  of  the 
Christian  world.  You  may  have  seen  prints  from  the  early  Chris- 
tian painting,  where  Saint  John  has  an  eagle's  head,  Saint  Mark 
a  lion's,  Luke  a  bull's,  and  so  on  through  the  hst.  As  time  wore 
on,  these  brutal  emblems  faded  out  and  in  time  entirely  disap- 
peared. These  things  were  in  a  spirit  of  compromise  between 
the  relidons,  —  much  the  same  as  Christian  missionaries  in  China 
wear  Chinese  garb  and  pigtails  ;  or  Maronite  Catholics  of  to-day 
are  permitted  to  have  wives,  while  other  Latins  cannot. 

Ephesus  was  one  of  the  seven  apocalyptic  churches,  —  the  cap- 
stone of  them  all.  Saint  John  came  here  on  his  release  from 
volcanic  Patmos.  His  church  is  the  best  preserved  of  all,  and 
this  because  it  became  a  mosque.  The  Moslems  built  unto  it 
a  new  facade,  and  made  it  their  principal  Ephesian  temple,  as 
the  famous  Christian  church  of  St.  Sophia  at  Constantinople  is 
the  chief  mosque  there.  The  Pantheon  in  Rome  was  saved  to  us 
in  the  same  way,  and  became  in  early  times  a  Christian  church. 
To-day  there  is  next  to  nothing  Christian  at  Ephesus,  though 
John  preached  here,  and  Paul  and  Timothy.  And  here  too  came 
the  Vircfin  ^Llrv  —  so  the  historv  runs  —  to  live  with  the  beloved 
disciple  John,  and  here  she  was  buried,  even  though  they  show 
her  rather  gorgeous  tomb  near  Gethsemane.  Her  tomb  brought 
myriad  pilgrims  here,  and  brought  to  Ephesus  great  revenue  ; 
but  when  Ephesus  declined,  three  hundred  years  later  on,  the 
priests  at  Jerusalem  decided  that  she  had  not  been  entombed  at 
Ephesus  at  all.     Here,  too,  —  for  so  the  legend  runs,  —  came 


296  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Mary  Magdalene,  who  was  buried  here  near  Saint  John's  church, 
although  her  other  tomb  is  near  Marseilles  in  France.  It 
makes  no  difference  what  you  think,  for  this,  like  other  early  Chris- 
tian legends,  will  never  be  decided.  The  tomb  of  Timothy  and 
prison  of  Saint  Paul  were  also  here ;  the  latter  stands  upon  the 
hill ;  the  place  where  he  lived  and  made  his  bread  by  making 
sails  was  near  the  great  stone  warehouse  which  now  stands  by 
the  old-time  wharf. 

We  rode  about  an  hour  or  two  among  this  ruined  mass,  then 
came  back  to  a  Greek's  house,  where  we  left  our  horses,  and 
got  a  lunch,  and  came  away  as  we  went.  It  is  a  spot  well  worth 
our  seeing.  Once  a  most  sumptuous  place,  abounding  in  great 
wealth  ;  a  place  of  most  vigorous  pagan  and  afterwards  of  Chris- 
tian worship  ;  place  of  learning,  wealth,  and  power,  —  now  a  most 
perfect  wreck ;  most  ruined  place  the  world  affords.  Baalbec, 
PalmjTa,  Thebes,  once  were  great,  now  nothing ;  but  something 
yet  is  left  of  them.  Of  this  place  —  best  of  all  of  them  —  there 
is  almost  nothing.  Saint  Paul,  you  may  know  (Acts  xix.),  left 
here  in  something  of  a  hurry ;  and  not  far  off  he  might  have 
turned  and  seen  a  most  glorious  architectural  vision,  —  many 
temple  columns,  roofs,  noble  theatres,  the  great  Agora's  columns, 
walls,  and  winged  pinnacles ;  the  gleam  of  marble,  gold,  and 
bronze  ;  the  harbor  filled  with  ships,  and  mile  on  mile  of  battle- 
mented  walls,  bright  fountains,  towers,  gates,  the  prison  where 
he  lay  in  chains.  We  poor  pilgrims  turned  and  saw  nothing  but 
incongruous  desolation.  Temples,  stadia,  towers,  were  gone ; 
gone  were  the  walls  and  gilded  gods ;  gone  fountains,  statues, 
churches,  ships,  and  all ;  we  saw  nothing  but  a  woful  wreck. 

The  ship  sailed  on  that  night.  Smyrna  soon  lay  behind.  Next 
day  we  came  to  Rhodes,  —  a  noble  island,  from  which  we  have 
a  State  named.  It  was  a  smart  port  in  its  time,  noted  for  its  pub- 
lic edifices.  That  time  has  gone.  You  have  heard  of  its  three 
thousand  statues ;  its  colossal  one  that  bestrode  her  harbor 
entrance.  It  was  one  of  the  world's  seven  wonders.  But,  like 
the  one  at  Ephesus,  it  is  gone.  A  vicious  earthquake  tore  it  down, 
as  it  did  many  Ephesian  things.  But  it  was  n't  much  of  a  statue 
after  all,  —  only  one  hundred  and  five  feet  high,  which  rather 
spoils  the  story  about  its  striding  the  harbor  entrance  at  such  a 
height  that  masted  ships  could  enter  there.  The  squatting 
Buddha  statues  of  Japan  would  be  much  taller  if  they  would 


IN  ASIA   MINOR.  297 

Stand  up.  Vastest  of  the  ancient  images  is  the  broken  Ramsean 
statue  on  the  Theban  desert  plain,  a  puzzle  to  the  world.  Vaster 
than  the  Rhodian  one  that  wondrous  figure  out  on  the  Doras 
plains,  whose  brazen  forehead  burned  with  the  lustre  of  seven 
times  heated  furnaces,  outshining  all  the  sacrificial  fires  of  Baal's 
altars,  and  dimming  the  torches  of  Mylitta's  festivals.  Greater 
yet  than  all  of  these  is  the  one  that  stands  at  New  York  harbor, 
whose  pedestal  is  higher  than  the  masts  of  ships ;  and  the  torch 
she  holds  aloft  is  almost  as  high  as  the  crest  of  the  great  pyra- 
mid. But  Rhodes  was  a  little  island  state,  and  did  some  excellent 
things. 

Our  sliip  now  passes  Carian  Halicarnassus  ruins,  birthplace 
of  Herodotus,  father  of  history,  —  a  noble,  many-templed  town 
that  faced  this  most  lovely  sea,  gemmed  with  islands  far  and  near. 
Here,  too,  once  stood  another  of  the  world's  seven  classic  wonders, 
—  that  wondrous  marble  tomb  that  the  sister-queen  Artemisia 
built  over  her  husband-brother  Mausolus ;  of  purest  Parian,  tasking 
the  skill  of  Philetus  the  architect,  the  sculptors  Scopas,  Bryanis, 
and  Timotheus,  —  a  glorious  pillared  pile,  the  heads  of  whose 
bronze  chariot  horses  were  sevenscore  feet  above  the  earth.  Won- 
derful region,  having  three  of  the  seven  wonders  mentioned  just 
above.  Two  more  were  not  far  distant,  —  the  Olympian  Jupiter, 
who  stood  almost  in  sight  of  where  I  sat ;  and  the  Pharos  of  Alex- 
andria, —  most  ambitious  architectural  feat  the  world  has  ever 
seen,  whose  light  shone  out  upon  the  sea  three  hundred  miles 
away.  Farthest  away  of  all  the  seven  were  the  Babylonish  hang- 
ing gardens,  built  by  a  king  to  cheer  his  mountain  bride.  A 
wondrous  seven,  —  two  tombs,  two  statues,  one  temple,  one  gar- 
den, and  a  hght- house.  Now  every  one  is  gone  from  off  the  earth, 
save  one,  —  the  time-defying  pyramid  ;  all  the  rest  were  baubles, 
played  with  by  earthquakes,  and  toppled  down.  The  pyramid, 
whose  head  was  sheened  by  centuries  of  suns  before  the  na- 
tions were  born  that  built  the  others,  yet  looks  down  in  scorn 
upon  earth's  wonders,  thrones  and  kings  and  monuments,  chat- 
ting with  his  attentive  neighbor,  the  ever  serious  Sphinx,  won- 
dering what  temporary  trash  will  next  be  built. 

We  sailed  on  through  this  lovely  island  sea,  once  the  home  of 
gods  and  men, — the  dreamy  ocean  land  where  Neptune  trained 
his  fiery  colts,  —  and  so  came  to  Kos.  Here  was  born  the  famed 
Greek  master,  Apelles,  whose  painted  fruit  the  birds  would  come 


298  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  peck  at ;  here  Hippocrates  was  born  ;  here  dwelt  the  sons 
of  Esculapius  ;  here  wrought  Alcibiades  to  build  up  mighty  walls 
and  towers ;  and  hence  came  that  rare  wine  of  Kos  kings  held 
in  great  repute.  It  is  a  lovely  island  yet,  adorned  with  villages 
and  orange  groves  and  vines. 

The  day  began  to  fade  as  we  skirted  the  low-browed  isle  of 
Patmos,  where  Saint  John  long  lived  in  banishment  and  the  rev- 
elation was  written  down.  It  was  Domitian,  or  some  intolerant 
Roman  ruler,  who  sent  him  here  because  he  preached  an  un- 
usual gospel,  — was  of  another  faith,  you  know.  Well,  it  was  n't 
strange.  There  are  Domitians  living  even  now  who  consign 
no  end  of  folks  to  Patmos,  or  a  warmer  place,  who  don't  believe 
with  them.  There  is  a  grotto  over  there,  half  way  between  the 
town  and  port,  where  John  conversed  with  angels  and  thought 
and  wrote.  There  is  a  chapel  there  where  lamps  are  still  kept 
alight,  and  pious  monks  will  point  out  the  very  crevices  through 
which  the  heavenly  revelations  came  in  voices  "  like  the  sound 
of  a  trumpet,"  —  crevices  severely  similar  to  those  through 
which  the  inspiration  came  to  listening  Delphian  oracles  before 
Saint  John's  time  and  after.  But  our  day  was  blending  into 
night,  and  we  had  no  time  to  verify  the  statements  made  by 
the  spectacled  professor,  so  we  lighted  fires  on  the  shaded  deck, 
and  talked  more  wisdom  than  we  knew  of  things  unseen. 

The  morning  sun  shone  down  on  Dardanelles,  as  right  and 
left  the  Turkish  batteries  frowned  and  gave  out  hints  of  horrid 
war.  So  near  to  Patmos  and  to  Ephesus ;  not  far  from  Bethle- 
hem and  place  of  that  wondrous  Sermon  on  the  Mount  which 
echoes  yet  in  countless  ears  ;  not  far  from  Olivet  and  Calvary,  — 
and  yet  —  and  yet  these  cursed  means  of  war.  The  vicious  steel 
that  thirsts  for  brother's  blood,  instead  of  lessening,  multiplies. 
The  Hon  is  here  yet,  the  lamb  must  keep  away.  Good  men 
preach,  and  while  they  tell  of  peace  and  faith,  black-throated 
cannon  boom ;  the  wounded  call  on  God,  and  die ;  and  faith 
and  love  and  even  all  "good-will  to  men  "  are  deeply  veiled  in 
sulphurous  smoke.     "  How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long?" 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  299 


CHAPTER   XX. 

CONSTANTINOPLE. 

The  City  of  Constantine.  —  The  Fairest  Scene  on  Earth.  —  The  Turkish 
Custom-House.  —  The  Dogs  of  Stamboul.  —  Turkish  Merchants  and 
Bazaars. — The  Unspeakable  Turk  at  Home.  —  Boating  in  the  Bos- 
phorus.  —  Sunday  in  Constantinople.  —  The  Sultan  goes  to  Prayer. — 
A  Splendid  Pageantry.  —  The  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia.  —  A  Temple  of 
Magnificence.  —  Visit  to  Robert  College.  —  A  Spot  of  Historic  Memo- 
ries.—  Among  the  Howling  Dervishes.  —  The  Most  Interesting  City 
in  the  World. 

CONSTANTINOPLE  !  City  of  Constantine  !  Constantine, 
the  Christian-pagan  emperor  of  Rome,  Briton-born,  wor- 
shipper of  the  sun.  Rome  was  an  unhealthy  place  two  thousand 
years  ago,  as  now.  Its  rulers  spent  but  little  time  within  its  walls. 
It  had  no  harbor,  save  at  Ostia.  Its  navy  lay  at  various  ports, 
preferring  Baice,  where  there  was  no  end  of  temples  and  palaces, 
sibyls'  caves  and  baths  and  mansions. 

Constantine  was  a  politician  who  brooked  no  opposition, 
present  or  possible.  He  was  a  Caesar,  and  must  retain  the 
mastery  of  the  world.  He  was  a  murderer,  with  none  too  near 
or  dear  to  stay  his  murderous  hand.  Christianity  had  become 
a  great  and  growing  power.  It  grew  among  the  rabble,  and  forced 
its  way  into  palaces.  It  had  honeycombed  all  Roman  pagandom. 
Stamping  out  with  fire  and  sword  ;  giving  Christ's  followers  to 
the  gibbet,  the  arena,  the  cross,  or  the  stake  ;  boiling  them  in  oil, 
—  all  served  but  to  increase  their  numbers,  powers,  and  faith. 
They  marched  to  martyrdom  with  firm  step ;  faced  persecution 
with  a  patient  smile  ;  deified  no  living  man,  but  put  their  trust 
in  God  and  dared  to  do  His  will. 

Constantine  saw  in  these  people  a  mighty  power.  He  knew 
that  Rome  must  meet  this  element  half  way,  or  be  swept  down 
in  time  by  its  overwhelming  force.  He  knew  his  army  well,  — 
knew  that  it  was  filled  with  Christian  thought  and  faith,  and  that 
it  would  support  him  if  he  placed  the  cross  among  his  eagles.    He 


300  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

did  so.  He  acknowledged  the  power  of  Christ,  but  would  not 
be  baptized.  Not  until  his  latest  hours  would  he  accept  that 
ordinance,  but  kept  his  faith  with  Christians  and  with  those  who 
knelt  unto  the  sun  as  well.  The  Christian  power  was  satisfied ; 
so,  too,  was  that  of  pagandom.  The  Christian  pardoned  all  his 
sins,  while  the  priests  of  Jupiter  were  allowed  to  live  and  work. 

But  Rome  was  not  his  home,  and  really  never  was.  It  was  a 
place  of  no  natural  strength ;  it  had  no  room  for  ships  of  war 
or  trade,  and  was  filled  with  pagan  influences  and  party  bicker- 
ing. So  Constantine,  far-seeing  man,  who  knew  Byzantium  and 
marked  its  natural  advantages,  removed  his  capital  there  in  the 
year  330  a.  d.  Building  was  actively  begun.  Palaces,  law 
courts,  and  temples  grew  as  if  by  magic.  People  were  imported 
to  swell  its  tide,  —  some  from  Rome,  more  from  other  points. 
As  Old  Rome  decayed.  New  Rome  gained  in  power.  For  eleven 
hundred  and  twenty-three  years  Constantinople  was  a  seat  of 
empire.  Long  after  Athens  was  cast  down ;  long  after  Rome 
attracted  men  ;  through  the  dark  ages,  —  while  most  of  Europe 
was  yet  barbarian,  —  the  lamps  of  literature  were  kept  somewhat 
aglow  in  the  city  of  Constantine. 

We  came  here  through  the  Dardanelles,  arriving  in  the  morn- 
ing sunshine.  No  pen  can  well  depict  the  glory  of  the  view, 
for  on  the  earth's  broad  face  I  know  no  fairer  scene  than  this. 
Venice  rising  from  the  sea ;  Naples's  amphitheatre  of  palaces 
reflected  in  her  gorgeous  bay ;  Genoa  or  Buenos  Ayres,  —  all 
are  beauteous  gems,  but  all  fade  before  this  vision  fair  of  paradise. 
The  curious  old  battlemented  walls,  the  confused  terraced  roofs, 
the  palaces  in  marble  rows  along  the  water  front,  towers,  gilded 
tips  of  lofty  minarets,  and  noble  mosques  with  clustered  domes, 
the  cypress  groves  and  arsenals,  and  over  all  the  soft  blue  sky, — 
there  is  no  sight  so  fair  in  all  the  world  beside. 

On  quitting  the  ship  your  baggage  goes  to  the  custom-house 
in  one  small  boat,  while  you  are  taken  to  the  passport  office  in 
another.  The  officials  take  your  papers  and  scan  them,  take 
some  money  from  your  hand,  and  pass  your  papers  back.  They 
care  very  little  about  your  papers,  but  care  much  about  your 
money.  You  give  them  money,  not  as  a  bribe,  of  course,  but 
as  a  remuneration  for  having  troubled  them  so  early  in  the  day. 
Then  you  go  to  the  customs  place  to  find  your  baggage.  It 
is  already  there.     You  may  ha\'e  nothing  contraband,  but  your 


CONST  A  NTINOPLE.  3  O I 

saying  so  makes  no  difference,  for  a  Turk  never  takes  a  Chris- 
tian's word,  even  in  open  court.  The  officer  does  not  want  to 
see  your  stuff;  he  really  does  n't  care  what  your  trunks  contain, 
or  whether  the  contents  are  dutiable  or  not.  He  is  in  no  hurry. 
You  are.  So  you  assume  that  you  should  pay  some  sort  of  duty 
on  your  stuff,  and  put  some  coin  in  two  or  three  men's  hands 
that  do  not  hesitate  to  take  it,  but  slide  it  uncounted  into  a  deep 
pocket,  and  you  pick  up  your  trunks  and  go  your  way.  So  the 
farce  goes  on,  as  it  has  gone  on  for  many  a  score  of  years.  The 
Government  is  not  defrauded,  for  there  is  no  Turkish  Government, 
—  only  a  sort  of  bakshish  mob. 

You  go  to  your  hotel.  Your  baggage  goes  there  on  the  backs 
of  men  w^io  handle  your  great  trunks  with  perfect  ease.  With 
a  cushion  on  the  back  to  rest  the  trunk  upon,  and  a  bit  of  rope 
around  the  forehead,  off  they  go  up  the  rough  paved  steeps  with 
steady  tread.  There  is  a  single  road  that  leads  up  to  the  hotel 
street,  —  Grand  Rue  de  Pera,  —  but  that  is  used  mainly  for  car- 
riages. The  hotels  here  are  only  fair,  but  they  are  very  dear. 
The  traveller  has  enough  to  eat,  such  as  it  is,  and  good  beds  to 
sleep  on,  but  pays  as  though  he  lived  in  every  luxury. 

Stamboul  is  unique.  The  word  itself  is  curious,  —  is  not  a 
corrupted  form  of  Constantinopolis,  as  is  supposed,  but  of  the 
Greek  es  tan  polls,  —  a  phrase  like  "  going  to  town."  The  guide- 
books tell  you  that  the  beauty  of  the  city  is  all  outside  and  noth- 
ing of  it  within.  Without,  of  course,  there  are  no  end  of  lovely 
sights,  but  there  are  also  pleasant  spots  within  :  bright  gardens, 
palaces  and  mosques,  towers  and  minarets.  There  are  cosey 
nooks  and  charming  prospects  out  across  the  clear  blue  waters 
dotted  over  with  ships  and  sails  and  tiny  caique  boats.  Most  of 
the  streets  are  narrow,  crooked,  roughly  paved,  and  dirty.  The 
streets  are  {q.\^  where  one  may  safely  drive,  yet  there  are  many 
vehicles  here,  and  the  horses  are  not  bad.  At  street-corners 
stand  saddled  nags  for  hire,  and  grooms  to  attend  you  where 
you  will.  The  drawback  is  in  too  general  ignorance  of  the  lan- 
guage ;  but  you  must  have  a  dragoman  to  help  you  out  in  that. 
Then,  well-equipped,  you  will  take  in  no  end  of  sights  and  sounds 
at  leisure. 

The  dogs  of  Stamboul !  They  are  here  in  force.  They  have 
their  mission  and  seem  to  know  it.  When  not  hunting  for  gar- 
bage, they  lie  around  and  sleep,  regardless  of  everything.     They 


302  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

are  not  so  poor  and  rough  of  coat  as  writers  sometime  tell,  but 
rather  jolly,  knowing  whelps,  that  have  an  eye  for  business,  and 
are  mostly  "yaller."  They  have  their  own  ranches  to  themselves. 
A  half  dozen  curs,  or  so,  own  so  much  of  a  street  —  forty  rods, 
perhaps,  —  and  woe  to  any  trespasser  that  dares  to  hunt  a  crumb 
on  their  preserves.  If  a  stranger-dog  appears  at  either  end, 
the  alarm  is  sounded  straight.  Every  sleeper  jumps  up  with  a 
business  snap,  and  each  feeder  quits  his  lunch,  and  in  a  bunch 
they  make  a  dash  upon  the  intruder.  If  he  retreats,  all  right. 
If  he  lingers  too  long,  it  will  take  him  some  time  to  count  the 
holes  in  his  skin.  I  don't  despise  these  dogs  ;  if  it  were  not  for 
them  Stamboul  would  have  ten  smells  where  it  now  has  but  nine. 
The  air  of  injured  innocence  they  assume  when  disturbed  is 
amusing.  Should  you  innocently  tread  on  the  too  convenient 
tail  of  one  as  you  find  him  in  your  path,  he  will  sit  bolt  upright, 
stand  his  nose  straight  up  into  the  air,  open  wide  his  spacious 
mouth,  and  wail  as  though  his  heart  would  break.  The  other 
dogs  don't  take  stock  in  their  comrade's  noisy  rubbish,  but  if 
he  makes  too  long  a  row,  some  Turk  gives  him  a  kick,  and  he 
lies  down  for  another  nap.  Hydrophobia  is  almost  unknown 
among  these  outcasts. 

The  mosques  of  Constantinople  are  really  beautiful.  Their 
tall,  slim,  tapering  minarets  and  clustered,  bulbous  domes  are 
scattered  everywhere.  You  look  for  Christian  towers  and  steeples. 
You  will  not  find  them.  There  are  many  Christians  here,  mainly 
Greeks,  but  they  make  no  show  of  towers  or  spires.  There  are 
churches  here,  but  you  would  not  know  them  as  you  pass  them 
by,  so  identified  are  they  with  business  buildings.  The  Turk 
has  little  liking  for  Christian  things,  and  wants  Christian  churches 
out  of  sight. 

The  bazaars  are  extensive,  and  stocked  with  goods  from  all  the 
world  ;  but  the  merchants  of  Stamboul  are  not  the  pleasant  men 
you  find  in  the  Damascus  stores  or  down  in  Cairo.  You  may 
be  able  to  get  what  you  want,  and  at  a  fair  price,  providing 
your  patience  holds  out ;  but  they  don't  seem  to  care  whether 
you  patronize  them  or  not.  These  Turks  don't  like  Christians 
alive  in  any  shape.  They  seem  to  have  a  grudge  toward  them. 
They  hiss  at  Christians  on  the  street,  and  greet  them  with  insult- 
ing words.  Meeting  a  soldier  on  the  street  to-day,  he  addressed 
me  with  :  — 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  303 

"  You  are  English?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered  ;  "  American." 

"  Pardon  —  you  are  very  good.     I  hate  the  English." 

"What  for?"  I  asked. 

"They  want  to  govern  us,"  he  said,  "and  they  had  better 
mind  their  own  affairs." 

But  they  will  not.  The  mill  is  grinding,  —  slow,  perhaps,  but 
fine,  —  and  the  Turk  will  have  to  go.  Change  he  cannot,  of 
his  own  accord,  and  Turk  he  will  ever  be  until  he  is  not  a  Mos- 
lem. He  has  no  common  thought  with  Christians,  in  language, 
art,  domestic  life,  or  business  ways.  When  he  came  here  and 
took  this  place  he  murdered  Christians  right  and  left,  and  would 
now  if  he  dared.  His  life  is  full  of  rottenness,  deceit,  and  dev- 
iltry. There  is  no  government ;  the  people  speak  of  state  affairs 
in  bated  breath ;  and  if  you  question  them  too  close,  even  those 
who  stand  around  and  have  no  part  in  what  is  said  will  hurry 
away,  not  daring  to  listen,  lest  they  might  be  called  upon  to  tell. 
Spies  lurk  everywhere  :  the  very  walls  have  ears.  The  press  is 
muzzled,  and  when  you  come  ashore  your  every  book  is  taken 
and  sent  away  for  an  expert  to  read.  Tupper's  poems,  Zola's 
novels,  Murray's  guides,  Barnes's  Notes,  or  Baxter's  "The  Saint's 
Rest,"  —  anything  thus  full  of  life  and  fun  is  suppressed  as  unsafe. 
If  any  of  you  mean  to  come  this  way,  lay  in  a  lot  of  Patent  Office 
reports,  —  something  that  will  give  these  fellows  a  full  dose. 

There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  this  country  save  its  religion. 
The  Moslem  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  Christian  ;  he 
can't  like  him,  can't  work  with  him,  would  n't  have  him  about 
an  hour  if  he  could  prevent  it,  and  has  no  place  in  Paradise  for 
him  hereafter.  The  Christian  flatters  himself  that  he  is  a  power  ; 
that  he  is  somebody's  "free  moral  agent,"  and  can  run  his 
agency  to  suit  himself,  whether  the  celestial  powers  like  it  or 
not.  The  Moslem  has  no  agency  of  the  sort,  —  free,  moral,  or 
otherwise.  The  Christian  says,  "  I  could  have  prevented  this 
or  that ;  I  could  have  done  it."  The  Turk  says,  "  Kismet,"  —  it 
is  fate  ;  no  power  on  earth  could  have  changed  anything  that  has 
happened.  The  Christian  admits  God's  omniscience,  but  the 
admission  is  with  his  breath  ;  with  acts,  never.  The  IMoslem 
admits  this  omniscience,  and  lives  by  the  belief.  The  Christian 
is  impelled  by  his  "  agency  ;  "  the  Moslem  has  none;  he  stag- 
nates.    It  is  a  bad  religion  for  any  country,  having  no  push  and 


304  A    GIRDLE  HOUND    THE  EARTH. 

no  responsibility.  Its  votaries  cannot  succeed  in  the  long-run. 
It  is  too  much  faith,  and  too  little  work. 

The  boating  here  is  delicious.  If  you  have  a  good  map  be- 
fore you,  you  can  catch  at  once  the  wonderful  contour,  — 
Seraglio  (harem)  Point ;  the  gleaming  Golden  Horn,  dividing 
Stamboul  from  Pera ;  Galata,  fringed  with  city  fronts  and  vil- 
lages, and  ending  in  a  river,  —  "  the  sweet  waters  of  Europe." 
To  the  right  pass  Trophane,  and  then  from  the  Marmora  into 
the  Bosphorus,  —  that  deep,  narrow,  rapid  strait  that  connects 
Marmora  Sea  with  the  Black  Sea.  This  strait,  on  one  side,  for 
twenty  miles  or  so,  fairly  gleams  with  palaces  of  sultans,  princes, 
potentates,  legations,  ministers,  and  merchant  princes.  These 
and  the  old-time  defences,  the  gardens  sloping  down  from  the 
bluff  behind,  the  jaunty  villages  and  lovely  cypress  groves,  make 
a  picture  of  surpassing  beauty,  a  dream  of  Oriental  splendor, 
nowhere  else  so  bright  and  fair.  On  the  other  shore  lie  many 
villages  and  pretty  palaces  looking  over  from  the  Asian  side,  tall 
green  bluffs  and  gardens  and  groves,  away  down  to  the  old  town 
of  Scutari,  the  Asian  part  of  Stamboul,  with  its  endless  breadth 
of  cemeteries.  From  point  to  point  you  glide  about  in  steamer 
or  caiejue.  No  matter  where  you  turn,  whether  to  tower-crowned 
Pera  or  minareted  Stamboul,  up  the  wending  of  the  Golden 
Horn  or  out  toward  the  Olympus  Mount  in  the  bright  distance, 
all  is  picturesque,  —  a  panoramic  dream  of  Paradise. 

Moslems  bury  their  dead.  The  cemeteries  are  extensive, 
and  bristle  with  tombstones  until  there  seems  no  room  for  any 
more.  Some  of  these  stones  relate  the  virtues  of  the  dead  with 
as  little  regard  for  fact  as  Christians  sometimes  have,  as  though 
the  statements  were  a  certificate  of  character  to  be  used  on 
the  judgment  day.  These  grave-fields  are  planted  thick  with 
cypress-trees,  whose  exuding  gum,  it  is  supposed,  counteracts 
the  graveyard  miasma.  The  English  cemetery  is  also  there  by 
Scutari,  a  lovely  stretch  of  land  upon  the  indented  shores  of 
Marmora,  where,  round  a  noble  monument,  many  a  brave  lad 
sleeps  in  peace,  —  a  lovely  spot,  with  many  a  nameless  verdured 
mound,  many  a  bay  and  laurel  tree,  and  many  a  sweet  forget- 
me-not. 

Sundays  come  in  Constantinople  as  in  other  lands,  three  of 
them  every  week,  —  Moslem,  Jew,  and  Christian  ;  Friday,  Sab- 
bath-day, and  Sunday.     These  differing  forms  of  faith  adore  the 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  305 

one  living  God,  but  differ  as  to  days.  On  Friday  many  Moslem 
stores  are  closed,  and  the  bazaars  are  rather  dull ;  on  Sabbath-day 
the  Jews  close  up,  but  they  being  few  comparatively,  the  business 
tide  flows  on  ;  on  Sunday  many  Christian  stores  are  closed, 
but  Moslem,  Hebrew,  and  too  many  Christian  shops  are  in  full 
blast  of  trade  and  noise ;  the  steamers  and  horse-cars  and  small 
boats  ply  as  they  do  every  day. 

Friday  brings  an  event.  The  Sultan  goes  to  mosque  for 
prayers.  You  know,  of  course,  that  the  mosques  are  open  every 
day,  and,  as  with  Catholic  churches  everywhere,  you  never  enter 
in  without  finding  more  or  less  of  worshippers.  But  on  Friday 
the  Sultan  rides  forth  in  royal  state  to  say  his  regal  prayers. 
Taking  a  carriage,  you  go  forth  to  see  the  mighty  Moslem  prince. 
You  drive  out  in  sight  of  his  palace  home  upon  the  bluff",  on  the 
Pera  side  ;  and  in  a  crush  of  coaches,  carriages,  and  hacks,  among 
Christians,  Turks,  and  a  motley  crowd  on  foot,  you  stop  and 
wait  his  royal  progress  to  his  mosque.  The  royal  troops  are  out 
in  force,  with  banners,  bands,  and  glittering  arms ;  troop  after 
troop  of  foot  and  horse,  with  uniforms  aglint  with  gold,  and 
horsemen  hurrying  to  and  fro  to  make  a  show  and  carry  orders 
to  the  troops  and  mosque,  that  all  may  be  in  proper  state  when 
the  Sultan  shall  please  to  come. 

First  are  the  swarthy  Nubian  guards,  in  black  and  gold,  with 
shouldered  battle-axe  ;  then  brazen  bands  and  troops  on  foot ; 
then  bands  of  music  ;  troops  of  gayly  saddled  horse  rush  through 
lines  of  picket  guards  ;  then  comes  the  Sultan's  mother's  coach, 
hedged  in  with  eunuchs,  prancing  steeds,  and  men-at-arms  ;  she 
scatters  money  near  and  far.  Then  come  the  fierce  Albanian 
guards,  armed  to  the  teeth  and  led  by  bands  ;  more  dashing 
steeds  and  gilded  coaches,  the  relatives  and  Sultan's  ministers. 
An  hour  of  rush  and  gleam  of  arms,  and  then  a  lull.  Why 
doesn't  he  come  along?  Nobody  knows  when  he  will  come. 
The  single  horsemen  come  and  go  ;  the  vast  crowd  becomes 
vaster,  more  closely  packed  ;  the  grounds  around  are  packed 
with  folks  ;  the  streets  are  crammed  with  carriages.  "  Why  don't 
the  fellow  come?  " 

At  last  a  horseman  dashes  down  the  road  ;  the  Sultan  has 
started ;  the  muezzins  from  the  minarets  now  shout  out  the 
hour  for  prayer.  Now  comes  a  lumbering  water-cart  to  lay  the 
rising  dust ;  then  a  golden  music  band,  with  horse  guards,  — 

20 


305  A   GIRDLE  HOUND    THE  EARTH. 

glorious  steeds,  some  iron-gray,  some  noble  bays ;  then  a  troop 
of  gleaming  white,  the  whole  caparisoned  in  gold,  —  the  bits, 
the  bridles,  saddle-cloths;  the  stirrups,  cruppers,  girths,  and 
reins  ;  the  riders'  uniforms  and  scabbards  and  halters,  all  gleam 
in  the  bright  sun,  drawn  swords  flashing  in  the  air,  —  a  mass  of 
magnificence. 

The  Sultan  now  comes  dashing  on.  He  drives  to-day  ;  some- 
times he  rides.  The  carriage  is  a  victoria,  with  the  top  put  up. 
He  sits  on  the  back  seat  alone,  faced  by  two  generals,  —  a  puny 
sort  of  man,  with  care-worn  face,  shrinking  in  his  seat  and  greet- 
ing no  one.  Behind  him  rolls  his  empty  coach,  with  two  grand 
grays  —  the  horses,  drivers,  servants,  coach,  gleaming  with  bur- 
nished gold.  This  is  to  return  in.  His  heralding  band  of  forty 
golden  instruments  plays  half-barbaric  notes.  No  shouts  arise, 
no  word  is  said,  no  hats  are  raised,  no  orders  given.  The  bright 
red  fezes  fill  the  air ;  the  gleaming  crescents  mock  the  sun  ; 
the  golden  standards  name  the  state  ;  green-turbaned  troops 
are  here  and  there  ;  the  glittering  cortt^ge  sweeps  toward  the 
mosque  through  lines  of  armed  men,  —  all  that  this  poor  man 
may  go  down  to  church  to  say  his  prayers  ! 

The  show  is  done.  The  turbaned  Sultan,  emperor  of  all  the 
Moslem  horde,  prostrate  in  glittering  state,  adores  the  Lord. 
Near  bv,  within  a  sombre  nook,  a  broken-hearted  mother  hum- 
bly  bows  and  prays  to  God  for  mercy,  —  bread.  To  which,  say 
you,  will  He  incHne  His  head? 

It  is  Sunday.  Suppose  we  go  to  church,  —  in  arm-chairs 
if  you  please  ;  full  many  go  that  way.  Suppose  we  go  to  St. 
Sophia.  Who  was  Saint  Sophia,  that  she  should  have  a  church 
named  after  her,  like  Saint  Peter,  Mark,  or  Luke,  or  John  ?  The 
words  mean  neither  woman  nor  man  ;  they  mean  "  Eternal 
Wisdom."  It  is  a  good  name,  —  the  one  Constantine  gave 
this  church  fifteen  hundred  and  sixty-one  years  ago,  the  date 
of  its  foundation  stone.  This  present  edifice  is  not  the  one 
that  this  first  Christian  Caesar  built,  for  that  one  perished  ;  but 
this  one  was  raised  on  the  same  site  by  Emperor  Justinian, 
A.D.  538,  or  thirteen  hundred  and  forty-eight  years  ago.  The 
pile  is  very  venerable  ;  older,  almost,  than  any  unchanged  Chris- 
tian church  in  Rome  or  elsewhere.  It  stands  out  on  Seraglio 
Point,  near  by  the  old-time  Hippodrome  and  the  thousand- 
columned  cistern,  the  central  place  of  the  Christian  city,  now 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  307 

the  Al  Mejdani,  "place  of  horses."  Horse  races  were  more 
popular  among  Christians  then  than  now ;  at  least  they  were 
not  tabooed  by  the  Church.  St.  Sophia  has  several  clustered 
domes,  so  flattened  that  you  wonder  how  they  hold  their  place. 
There  is  no  dome  like  them  in  all  the  world,  —  so  lofty,  flattened, 
self-sustained.  Anthemius  was  the  architect,  aided  by  Isodorus, 
—  mighty  Christian  builders,  whose  names  you  rarely  hear.  It 
is  said  the  dome  was  built  of  light  and  porous  Rhodian  brick, 
held  fast  with  the  cement  of  Rome,  that  bound  the  brick  into 
a  perfect  mass,  as  though  the  whole  were  as  one  solid  piece. 
The  tall,  tapering  Moslem  minarets,  enriched  with  carved  balco- 
nies, were  added  by  the  sultans  ;  so  were  the  spacious  fountains 
to  which  the  Moslem  must  go  to  wash  his  face  and  feet  before 
he  can  come  within  the  holy  place  for  prayers.  Not  tliat  the 
comer  is  personally  in  need  of  water.  He  may  have  come 
directly  from  a  bath  at  home,  —  but  that  water  was  not  holy. 
He  must  bathe  his  face  and  feet  again  to  be  entirely  right. 
It  is  wonderful  what  a  hold  this  holy-water  use  has  upon  the 
world,  —  Pagan,  Christian,  —  even  now  as  full  five  thousand 
years  ago.  The  sacred  stream  is  very  long,  shallow  at  places,  a 
mere  sprinkle  sometimes,  with  wide  and  copious  flow  at  inter- 
vals, —  a  stream  that  has  come  rippling  on  through  all  historic 
time. 

Before  we  enter  the  place  of  prayer  we  ascend  by  one  of  the 
easy  inclined  planes  to  the  women's  gallery.  In  early  Christian 
time,  and  even  now  in  Oriental  lands,  and  sometimes  in  our 
own,  the  sexes  worshipped  by  themselves,  —  the  women  could 
not  worship  with  the  men  ;  husband  and  wife  must  meet  the 
Lord  apart.  The  men  did  all  the  praying  then.  The  women 
stayed  at  home  ;  or,  if  they  went  to  church,  as  they  often  did, 
they  mostly  held  their  peace,  as  in  duty  bound.  You  know,  if 
you  have  read  the  Book,  what  Saint  Paul  said  upon  this  head, 
and  was  he  not  inspired  ?  But  it  is  different  now  ;  the  women 
worship  more  than  men,  — leastwise  in  Rome  you'll  find  it  so  ; 
maybe  in  New  York.  And  in  Jerusalem,  against  the  Wall  of 
Wailing,  we  counted  two  hundred  Jewesses  and  only  six-and- 
twenty  Jews. 

The  ascents  to  the  galleries  are  very  spacious,  so  that  noble 
dames  and  early  Christian  belles  might  be  carried  up  in  well- 
closed  sedan  chairs,  and  not  be  seen  of  men  from  the  time  they 


308  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

left  their  rooms  at  home  till  they  got  home  from  church  again. 
The  gallery  is  wide,  affording  ample  room  to  promenade  upon 
the  fine  marmora  floor,  far  above  the  first-floor  worshippers. 
The  bold  arched  ceiling  overhead  is  crusted  over  with  fine 
mosaic-work  laid  on  in  httle  bits  of  gilded  or  colored  glass  not 
bigger  than  a  split  pea,  upon  gold  ground  inwrought  with  pic- 
tures and  pattern  work,  —  a  gorgeous  gilded  sky.  The  half  par- 
titions that  divide  these  gorgeous  galleries  are  made  of  marble 
plank,  —  fine-textured,  creamy  parian,  with  sculptured  panels, 
imitating  slat-work;  the  hinges,  locks,  and  pendant  rings  for 
knobs,  all  in  careful  marble  sculpture.  The  columns  that  sus- 
tain the  arched  fronts  were  brought  from  famous  heathen  shrines, 
and  have  raised  leaf-work  capitals,  Justinian's  monogram  on 
each,  in  pure  Byzantine  style.  The  arches  and  covered  ceilings  ; 
rail  and  marble  balusters ;  the  many-colored  marble  columns, 
capped  and  based  with  white  ;  the  gold  mosaic-work  and  black- 
veined  marble  crusted  piers ;  the  rich  veined  alabaster  panel- 
work  framed  in  with  porphyry,  —  all  make  a  most  harmonious 
picture,  an  earthly  hint  of  mansions  that  no  hands  have  made, 
eternal  in  the  skies.  To  reach  this  rather  heavenly  place,  where 
early  Christian  angels  came,  there  are  eight  inclined  ascents,  of 
which  they  now  use  but  one.     By  that  we  go  below. 

Approach  the  entrance  ;  drop  off  your  shoes.  No  Christian 
temple  this.  The  crosses  that  for  nine  hundred  years  decorated 
these  tall  and  wide  bronze-sheeted  gates  are  gone,  —  have  had 
their  arms  torn  off  by  pagan  hands  that  brooked  no  emblems  of 
the  Christian  faith.  They  believe  that  Christ  lived  on  the  earth, 
was  flesh  and  blood,  a  true  prophet  of  the  living  God,  and  died 
upon  the  cross.  Further  than  this,  they  deny.  Mahomet  was 
a  prophet,  also,  —  God's  later  messenger  to  men.  In  stockings 
or  in  slippered  feet  you  enter  in.  The  porch  runs  clear  across 
the  entire  front,  between  the  officers'  court  and  the  second  ves- 
tibule. This  one  is  the  place  where  backsliders  must  wait  and 
bide  their  time  till  they  shall  be  received  again  by  an  offended 
God  and  church.  And  here  with  them  the  candidates  for  mem- 
bership await  baptism  into  the  faith.  The  architectural  joys 
were  farther  in.  Without,  all  was  worldly  and  cold  ;  within,  all 
was  heavenly  and  bright.  The  way  of  getting  into  church  was 
more  ceremonious  than  now.  The  goats  now  sit  among  the 
sheep,  —  often  in  the  best  pews  ;  tlie  righteous  poor  have  to 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  309 

content  themselves  with  uncushioned  benches,  and  gaze  upon 
the  pulpit  from  afar.  It  was  different  here.  The  ungodly  stayed 
without,  nor  dared  to  come  within  the  celestial  place  till  taint 
of  sin  had  been  effaced.  That  sort  of  dealing  now  would  ruin 
many  a  church. 

Passing  through  this  portal,  we  came  within  the  second  nar- 
thex,  or  vestibule,  more  spacious  than  the  former,  and  more 
adorned  ;  rich  in  marbles,  bronze,  and  mosaic.  Sixteen  doors 
of  bronze  lead  to  the  body  of  the  church.  Each  one  sustained 
a  cross,  —  all  gone.  What  sacrilege  !  Stay  !  How  many  a 
church  and  shrine  of  men  of  other  beliefs  were  plundered  to 
build  this  very  edifice?  Precious  to  the  heart  of  many  a  pagan 
worshipper  were  many  of  the  noble  things  with  which  they  glori- 
fied their  temples  and  shrines.  We  Christian  folks  —  the  honest 
followers  of  the  Lamb  —  stole  them  away.  Why  not?  It  was 
not  larceny,  —  merely  the  use  of  power.  Besides,  were  they  not 
heathen?  Had  heathen  any  rights ?  Does  not  the  good  Book 
plainly  say  that  they  and  theirs  God  gave  to  us  for  an  inheri- 
tance, to  do  with  as  we  will?  In  taking,  then,  his  chattels  or  his 
children,  we  kept  within  the  word.  Above  the  central  gate  you 
see,  inarched  upon  its  bold  bronze  cornice,  a  sacred  dove  and 
words  in  Greek,  saying  that  this  is  the  door  of  the  sheep,  etc.  ; 
and  just  above  some  medallion  portraits  showing  through  the 
hiding  plaster  with  which  the  temple  was  overspread  in  most 
places  to  blot  out  all  human  images.  The  Moslem  follows  the 
letter  of  the  Bible  with  regard  to  making  or  setting  up  heavenly, 
human,  or  brute  images  of  any  sort  within  these  homes  or  holy 
places.  Some  Christian  sects  do  likewise  ;  but  a  majority  of 
them  take  no  notice  of  it,  —  leastwise  they  count  on  God  as 
being  pleased  with  pious  pictures  and  marbles  anywhere.  Pass- 
ing within  the  great  audience  room,  you  stand  amazed.  On 
either  side  grand  arches  mount  from  sturdy  corner  piers,  and 
reach  to  a  giddy  height,  their  summits  crowned  by  an  ambitious 
dome.  Within  these  arches  are  many  noble  pillars.  Both  on 
the  lower  and  the  women's  gallery  floor  a  bronze-railed  gallery 
sweeps  clear  around,  with  a  balustraded  marble  screen  that 
fronts  the  women's  gallery,  and  above  these  are  many  open- 
ings for  lights  ;  also  a  circular  row  of  lights  above  the  arches 
pierced  in  the  dome's  lower  rim.  All  these  arches,  domes,  and 
all  about  where  marble  is  not  used,  were  crusted  over  with  gilded 


310  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  colored  glass  mosaic.  The  glorious  dome,  flashing  still  in 
gold  and  sumptuous  ornament,  is  ninescore  feet  and  six  above 
the  richly  marbled  floor ;  fivescore  and  seven  feet  span,  two- 
score  and  six  feet  rise,  —  a  feat  in  plain  brickwork  nowhere 
else  achieved.  The  numerous  pillars  set  beneath  the  arches 
and  at  the  comers  are  of  precious  porphyry,  conglomerate  green 
and  dark  veined  marbles  taken  from  several  pagan  shrines,  — 
from  the  thrice-sacred  fane  of  Delphi's  famous  oracle,  from  the 
world-famed  Temple  of  Diana  of  Ephesus,  from  Baalbec's  Tem- 
ple of  the  Sun,  and  wheresoe'er  such  precious  marbles  could  be 
found ;  and  even  Aurelian's  far-famed  solar  fane  was  stripped 
for  this  most  grand  adornment.  Such  wealth  of  precious  mar- 
bles, granites,  capital  and  base,  you  will  not  often  see.  The 
capitals  are  Byzantine,  —  vine  and  leaf  work  in  high  relief,  cut 
with  the  builder's  monogram  in  richest  chiselling.  The  floor 
is  overlaid  with  thick  carpeting  that  has  been  sanctified  upon 
the  Mecca  Kaaba  stone ;  with  prayer  place  pattern,  laid  down 
by  the  Turk. 

This  is  the  noblest  audience  room  in  all  tlie  world.  St. 
Peter's,  John  of  Lateran,  the  cathedral  at  Toledo,  and  other 
noble  temples  of  the  Christian  world,  —  none  seem  so  grand, 
so  sublimely  beautiful,  as  this.  The  Moslems  have  debased  it 
all  around,  —  effaced  its  emblems;  permitted  its  decay  in  many 
parts ;  hung  on  its  walls,  inscribed  on  great  round  wooden 
shields,  some  special  Koran  texts ;  burned  its  paintings ;  de- 
stroyed its  superb  altar,  pulpits,  patriarchal  seats ;  effaced  its 
carvings  ;  changed  its  chandeliers  ;  built  in  new  chapel  shrines, 
pulpits,  prayer  stations ;  hung  up  tawdry  signs,  —  yet  for  all 
this,  the  room  asserts  a  Byzantine  grace  and  excellence  that  no 
hand  can  destroy,  no  ordinary  mutilation  deface.  It  is  still 
most  beautiful  and  sublime,  —  a  grand  original  to  which  the 
Venetian  St.  Mark's  is  but  a  toyish  hint.  No  gothic  work  — 
mere  rows  of  forest-trees  and  aisles,  which  keep  you  ever  in 
Druidic  woods  —  can  at  all  compare  with  this.  High  heaven  is 
overhead.  The  all-winged  seraphim,  those  disembodied  angels, 
salute  on  either  hand ;  the  column-screens,  the  circling  vaults 
and  airy  domes,  and  the  great  self-balanced  central  dome,  speak 
of  heaven's  great  dome  above  this  earth  of  ours,  —  a  place  of 
spacious  calm  and  rest  without  an  intervening  obstacle,  —  bold, 
beautiful,  sublimely  grand  ! 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  3  1 1 

These  venerable  columns,  some  trussed  up  with  thick  bronze 
bands  to  mend  some  crack  or  flaw,  have  graced  earth's  noblest 
fanes,  have  stood  by  fair  Diana's  side,  sustained  old  Baalbec's 
votaries  of  the  sun,  heard  praises  of  Osiris  sung  before  the  time  of 
Abraham,  then  came  forth  from  clouds  of  incense  in  those  pagan 
shrines  to  sustain  the  temple  of  Holy  Wisdom  here  in  Byzantium, 

—  came  to  be  degraded  from  Christian  worship  back  to  pagan- 
dom. To  this  tall  shaft  rode  murderous  Mohammed,  conqueror 
of  Constantinople.  While  he  was  battering  at  its  wall,  and  his 
success  seemed  imminent,  many  people  —  mothers,  daughters, 
children,  and  defenceless  ones  —  came  here,  and  on  their  bended 
knees,  prostrate  before  the  holy  shrine,  they  and  the  assembled 
priests  besought  the  help  of  God  to  shield  them  from  the  dreadful 
doom.  No  heavenly  succor  came  ;  but  thither  came  the  tiger- 
Turk,  and  wading  in  blood  of  mothers,  maids,  and  innocents,  — 
ankle-deep  in  unoffending  Christian  blood,  —  the  work  of  butch- 
ery went  on  till  not  a  life  was  left.    Corses  were  heaped  on  corse, 

—  mother  and  daughter,  wife  and  son,  prelate  and  priest,  in 
murderous  holocaust.  On  rode  the  conqueror,  his  war-horse 
trampling  o'er  the  yet  warm  mass  of  quivering  human  flesh ; 
there  dipped  his  red  right  hand  in  sinless  blood,  —  see  where 
he  struck  with  it  the  white  marble  and  left  a  stain  that  to  this 
day  is  plain,  proclaiming  there  his  mastery  of  the  world  !  May 
each  finger-print  rest  there  in  witness  of  this  ruthless  savagery 
till  Christian  arms  shall  purge  this  place  of  every  Moslem  Turk  ! 

The  grand  high  altar  that  Justinian  built  is  gone.  The  holy 
shrines,  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  church,  all  that  was  movable 
was  torn  away  and  put  to  other  use.  About  this  grand  old 
temple  Koran  texts  are  hung,  and  in  the  dome  the  well-known 
Koran  verse  :  "  God  is  the  light  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth." 
Next  to  the  Meccan  shrine  and  Omar's  Mosque  at  Jerusalem, 
this  is  the  most  sacred  Moslem  spot  on  earth.  But  no  Christian 
is  welcome  here.  The  priests  all  have  unfriendly  ways,  and 
answer  questions  with  a  scowl.  They  show  the  cradle  of  Christ  ; 
the  basin  in  which  he  was  washed  by  Mary, — both  brought, 
they  say,  from  Bethlehem.  Who  knows?  They  show  you,  too, 
the  shiny  stone,  the  sweating  stone,  close  by,  which  makes 
miraculous  cures,  the  Koran  that  was  sent  from  heaven,  and 
other  curious  things,  because  you  pay  them  for  it,  and  Chris- 
tian gold  is  goodly  in  their  sight,  if  Christian  folks  are  not. 


312  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

The  candles  burnt  at  Ramadan — the  Moslems'  period  of 
Lent,  when  they  eat  nothing  in  the  day,  but  fill  themselves  by 
night  —  are  giants,  —  full  eighteen  inches  through  and  ten  feet 
high,  set  into  immense  candlesticks  of  figured  bronze.  Though 
used  for  some  ten  years  they  are  only  two  feet  shorter  now  than 
when  they  were  set  up.  The  fish  and  Neptune  trident  —  four 
fish  and  one  forked  spear  —  on  a  bronze  plate,  set  in  a  pier, 
were  placed  there  when  the  church  was  built.  Why  are  they 
placed  within  a  Christian  church,  these  emblems  of  Assyrian 
pagan  faith?  Not  more  pagan  than  the  candle-light,  vestige 
of  sun-worship ;  not  more  pagan  than  the  doves,  Brahmanic 
bird,  nor  yet  the  cross,  —  an  Egyptian  emblem  of  eternal  life. 
The  candles  are  used  by  Christian  and  Moslem,  too  ;  the  dove 
is  sacred  among  the  heathen  gods  and  among  Buddhistic  folks ; 
the  Christian  venerates  the  bird,  so  does  the  Mohammedan. 
The  fish  also  figures  in  the  early  Christian  church,  and  has  its 
meaning  yet.  All  these  things,  and  many  more  you  have  no 
time  to  hear  about,  are  but  the  connecting  links  —  articles  of 
compromise  —  between  the  pagan  and  the  Christian  faiths. 

How  came  the  Moslem  in  this  fairest  Christian  shrine? 
Through  Christian  greed  —  or  rather  greed  of  Christian  men  — 
and  Christian  schism.  Read  the  history  of  the  Genoese,  read 
the  Crusade  history,  and  learn  how  this  place  was  sacked  by 
soldiers  with  cross-hilted  swords  and  cross  of  Christ  upon  their 
coats ;  who  came  here  as  brothers  and  friends  ;  who  stripped 
the  city  of  its  power,  who  desecrated  helpless  homes,  who  did 
such  deeds  of  riot  here  as  inky  pens  must  blush  to  write.  Read, 
if  you  care  to  know  the  truth,  of  the  Latin  Church  and  of  the 
Greek,  of  church  hatred  and  its  feuds,  and  you  may  find  the 
key  to  all  this  Byzantine  misery,  —  the  loss  unto  the  rabid  Turk 
of  the  fairest  city  site  on  earth,  the  grandest  Christian  shrine 
yet  built. 

But  other  Christian  shrines  are  left.  When  the  Turk  came 
in,  there  were  more  than  three  hundred  Christian  temples  here. 
Forty-six  of  these  the  Moslem  changed  to  mosques.  Most  of 
the  rest  are  gone,  but  nowhere  else  is  there  such  a  fine  array  of 
buildings  of  this  class.  Some  of  these  are  of  the  time  of  Con- 
stantine,  with  the  flattened  dome  of  Justinian's  day;  that  of 
St.  Irene,  where  the  golden-tongued  Chrysostom  preached,  now 
a  place  for  storing  arms ;  the  church  of  Chora,  with  numerous 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  3  1 3 

well-preserved  mosaics  representing  the  life  of  Clirist  and  Mary, 
—  these  and  several  more. 

The  chief  of  the  real  Moslem  mosques  is  that  of  Solyman  the 
^Magnificent,  whose  reign  began  the  year  the  Pilgrims  landed  on 
old  Plymouth  Rock.  He  became  a  conqueror  of  armies,  and 
so  under  the  Koran  rule  was  entitled  to  build  a  minareted 
mosque.  Without,  it  is  quite  as  imposing  as  is  St.  Sophia ; 
within,  it  shows  much  less  of  taste  or  beauty,  thougli  an  attempt 
was  made  to  surpass  it.  The  failure  is  palpable.  A  curious 
quartette  of  columns  stand  beneath  the  ambitious  dome,  —  four 
monolithic  shafts  of  fine  Egyptian  granite.  Where  did  these 
come  from  ?  No  Moslem  ever  quarried  out  such  stone.  Well, 
in  the  time  of  Justinian  —  the  man  who  raised  fair  St.  Sophia  — 
he  gathered  material  from  far  and  near  to  build  a  regal  palace. 
Among  the  pillars  of  his  porch  stood  these  noble  columns. 
The  conquering  Turk  tore  them  away  and  used  them  here.  So 
does  Dame  Fortune  trifle  with  the  affairs  of  men.  Originally, 
no  doubt,  they  graced  some  Egyptian  shrine,  mayhap  the  pal- 
ace of  a  Pharaoh.  The  Roman  plucked  these  fine  things  in 
his  day,  carted  to  Rome  the  Egyptian  obelisks  covered  with 
hieroglyphics  they  could  never  read,  and  these  no  doubt  played 
their  part  in  Rome,  in  palace  or  heathen  shrine ;  and  when,  in 
turn,  Old  Rome  was  plucked  by  Constantine  to  build  a  New 
Rome  on  the  Bosphorus,  these  ponderous  stones  were  shipped 
out  here.  They  graced  the  palace  of  Justinian  for  some  centu- 
ries, and  now  help  to  prop  a  heathen  mosque.  Where  next? 
Some  day  these  Moslem  temples,  having  had  their  day,  will  mix 
with  earth  again.  These  noble  shafts  will  find  a  place  in  some 
palace,  hall,  or  temple  ;  for  such  stones  are  too  valuable  to  pass 
away  with  cheaper  stuff  with  which  they  get  mixed  up.  Pity  it 
is  they  cannot  talk,  for  they  could  tell  tales  of  other  days  and 
faiths  and  governments  that  one  would  like  to  hear. 

In  passing  on  we  come  by  the  ancient  Hippodrome  and  see 
the  Egyptian  obelisk.  It  is  only  some  fifty  feet  in  height,  set 
upon  a  heavy  sculptured  base  of  softer  stone,  sculptured  here. 
It  came  from  Heliopolis,  where  Joseph  lived  in  his  Egyptian 
days,  and  which  he  saw  full  many  a  time  when  visiting  his  mother- 
in-law  who  lived  at  On,  the  present  Heliopolis.  It  has  stood 
this  climate  bravely.  Though  out-door  life  for  some  five-and-forty 
centuries  has  faded  out  its  rich  red  tints,  its  angles  are  most 


314  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

perfect.  The  brazen  fir-cone  that  Roman  hands  placed  upon 
its  top  was  snatched  off  by  an  earthquake.  Nature  revolts  at 
such  monstrosities.  Saint  Ignatius,  who  in  after  times  preached 
here,  has  left  behind  the  story  of  its  sudden  taking- off 

Best  of  the  ancient  columns  that  Christian  Caesars  here  set  up 
to  grace  their  Hippodrome  withal  is  the  old  brazen  intertwisted 
trinitarian  serpent.  Sometime  ere  you  were  born  —  twenty-three 
hundred  and  sixty  years  or  so  ago  —  an  ambitious  Persian  sought 
to  punish  Greece.  On  that  exploit  intent,  he  took  a  squad  of  a 
million  or  two  of  men,  and  got  into  a  fight  at  Platsea,  —  and  came 
out  second-best.  The  Greeks  picked  up  the  plunder,  one  tenth 
of  which  they  devoted  to  their  oracle  up  at  Delphi  —  the  same 
that  told  them  not  to  be  afraid.  The  gold  tliat  fell  that  way 
was  wrought  into  a  massive  tripod.  On  this  was  reared  this 
serpent  monument,  fifteen  feet  in  height.  Take  three  full-grown 
snakes  some  eight  yards  long  ;  put  their  heads  and  tails  together, 
and  twist  them  like  a  rope,  and  let  their  open-fanged  heads  stand 
out  three  different  ways,  and  you  will  have  a  model  of  a  column 
like  this.  The  Phocians  captured  the  golden  tripod ;  Constan- 
tine  took  the  snakes,  and  set  them  up  here  to  ornament  his  circus. 
The  column  stands  it  well.  The  snakes  are  good  old  bronze  ; 
their  heads  have  been  lopped  off,  but  the  rest  is  well  protected. 
The  victories  against  the  Persians  are  graven  on  this  snaky 
column  ;  and  by  such  means  are  histories  handed  down.  You 
may  read  more  about  it,  if  you  like,  in  Herodotus.  These  monu- 
ments stand  in  wells  some  ten  feet  deep,  the  bottom  once  the 
level  of  this  rare  old  sporting  ground.  This  shows  how  cities 
rise  upon  the  filth  and  sculch  the  authorities  were  too  lazy  to 
cart  away. 

Near  by,  Constantine  set  up  a  noble  porph}Ty  column  sur- 
mounted by  the  Phidian  Apollo,  a  precious  remnant  of  the 
emperor's  pagan  proclivities.  The  column  was  a  most  costly 
and  noble  one.  But  fires  that  raged  from  time  to  time  in  dan- 
gerous proximity  splintered  its  polished  surface,  so  that  it  had 
to  be  hooped  with  heavy  bands  of  bronze.  It  is  about  one  hun- 
dred feet  high,  and  probably  the  largest  shaft  of  porphjTy  ever 
seen.     It  is  a  sorry-looking  piece  now,  but  zealously  protected. 

•  ••••*• 

At  Constantinople,  as  at  Beirut  and  other  points,  much  good 
is  being  done  in  educating  the  people.     American  philanthro- 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  3  i  5 

pists  and  boards  are  doing  a  full  share  of  it,  —  more,  perhaps, 
than  any  other  country.  Visiting  the  Robert  College  here,  we 
found  it  full  of  interest.  It  was  founded  by  a  wealthy  New  York 
merchant,  whose  name  it  bears,  and  is  dedicated  to  the  educa- 
tion of  boys,  of  whom  there  are  about  two  hundred  there.  They 
come  from  Turkey,  Bulgaria,  Greece,  Persia,  and  the  Asia  Minor 
country,  to  get  a  thorough  education.  Professor  Grosvenor 
kindly  showed  us  through  and  answered  all  our  questions.  The 
college  is  founded  on  the  Amherst  plan  ;  it  has  no  connection  with 
the  mission  boards,  its  religious  character  being  based  upon  the 
principle  of  perfect  freedom  of  conscience  for  all,  combining 
the  highest  moral  training  with  intellectual  and  physical  develop- 
ment. Its  business  management  is  in  New  York,  and  it  draws 
its  sustenance,  beyond  the  income  from  tuition,  from  that 
locality.  Its  professorial  corps  numbers  about  twenty,  largely 
American.  Ten  different  languages  are  taught  to  boys  ranging  in 
age  from  fourteen  to  thirty-five  years.  The  cost  of  tuition,  includ- 
ing board,  is  about  two  hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year,  which 
would  be  considered  rather  low  in  America.  The  students  are 
almost  entirely  Christians,  —  sons  of  Christian  parents  here  in 
Turkey  and  round  about.  Why  don't  the  Moslem  sons  come  in  ? 
Why  don't  oil  and  water  mix?  The  Turk  has  schools  after  his 
own  fashion,  and  once  in  a  while  he  will  have  his  children  in 
Christian  schools,  but  the  cases  are  so  rare  as  to  be  hardly  worth 
mentioning.  Why?  For  the  same  reason,  in  a  general  way, 
that  Christian  parents  do  not  care  to  have  their  sons  put  under 
Turkish  tutelage ;  for  the  same  reason  that  Catholic  and  Protes- 
tant want  their  children  educated  under  their  own  religious  in- 
fluences. People  don't  differ  much  in  their  prejudices.  All 
have  them,  and  none  are  more  strong  than  those  which  relate 
to  the  bringing  up  of  one's  children. 

We  spent  a  pleasant  hour  on  the  college  premises.  The  site 
is  magnificent.  The  noble  building,  almost  fire-proof,  stands 
within  a  spacious  enclosure  close  by  the  old  Turkish  "  Castle  of 
Europe,"  on  a  commanding  bluff"  some  five  hundred  feet  above 
the  beautiful  Bosphorus,  a  half- hour  steamer  ride  from  Stamboul. 
The  view  is  glorious.  Out  across  the  Bosphorus  (the  word 
means  "  Ox-ford  ")  the  Asian  shore  is  lined  with  villages,  palaces, 
grim  defences,  countless  floating  craft ;  over  among  the  hills  are 
many  fields  and  gardens,  orchards,  groves,  and  palace  grounds, 


3l6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

all  most  picturesquely  fair.  And  this  is  classic  ground.  For 
standing  here,  or  looking  from  his  study  room,  the  student  sees 
the  footprints  of  many  an  army  officered  by  classic  heroes.  Here 
marched  and  crossed  the  Bosphorus  great  Xenophon,  deathless 
in  history.  Across  here  at  our  feet,  twenty-three  hundred  and 
ninety  years  ago  came  Darius,  Persian  lion,  leading  forth  his  fierce 
trained  troops  to  conquer  Scythia ;  here  he  built  his  bridge  of 
boats,  —  the  first  pontoon,  perhaps,  in  history.  This  way,  too, 
came  Philip  of  Macedon  with  Hellenic  force  to  meet  and  conquer 
armies  ;  and  here,  in  sight  of  Thermara,  was  that  famous  hot  day's 
battle  fought,  of  which  you  may  have  read.  Over  there,  the 
Asian  hills  are  famed  by  the  presence  of  Haroun  al  Raschid,  of 
the  Arabian  Nights. 

At  your  feet,  abutting  on  these  college  grounds,  are  the  fa- 
mous European  towers,  the  stronghold  of  the  Turk,  where  the 
great  work  was  done  in  ninety  days,  —  a  preparatory  step  to 
assaulting  for  a  second  time  the  walls  of  Constantinople  in  1453. 
While  these  forts  were  just  begun,  the  Emperor  sent  messengers 
from  Constantinople  to  inquire  why  in  time  of  peace  such  de- 
fences as  tliese  were  being  built.  Mohammed  H.  heard  their 
errand,  and  replied  to  it :  "  Go  this  time  ;  tell  your  master  if  you 
come  and  ask  any  more  such  questions  I  '11  send  you  back  with- 
out }'our  tongues  !  "  They  came  not  back  again  ;  but  the  work 
was  crowded  on  with  renewed  energy ;  the  solid  towers  and 
walls  were  finished  in  three  months'  time.  It  was  the  beginning 
of  an  awful  end.  The  grim  old  towers  and  walls  and  their  twin 
forts  there  on  the  Asian  side  that  well  controlled  the  Bosphorus 
for  many  years  are  complete,  —  old,  gray,  and  grim,  but  past 
their  day  of  use.  Heroes  and  heroic  deeds  crowd  in  upon  one 
here,  whetting  the  students'  appetite  for  language  and  for 
history. 

The  school  for  girls,  another  well-known  American  institution, 
is  on  the  Asia  side,  at  Scutari.  (Pronounce  it  "  scoot-ari ; "  accent 
the  first  syllable.)  The  word  is  Persian,  —  Uscudar,  "place  of 
couriers,"  being  the  point  from  which  the  army  couriers  started 
for  the  Persian  capital  in  Xerxes'  and  in  Cyrus's  time.  Probably 
the  slancr  word  "  scoot  "  is  from  this  same  Persian  word.  The 
site  is  fine,  encompassing  Constantinople.  It  was  vacation  time, 
and  most  of  the  hundred  student  girls  were  gone  ;  but  the 
teachers  kindly  welcomed  us  and  showed  us  about  the  spacious 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  317 

tidy  premises,  well  fitted  for  the  noble  work.  The  girls,  they 
said,  were  from  the  city  and  the  country  round  about.  They 
give  them  a  good  education,  including  languages,  painting,  draw- 
ing, music,  plain  and  fancy  needlework,  something  of  cooking,  — 
preparing  them  for  lives  of  use  and  happiness.  The  school  is 
not  a  charity,  yet  it  costs  the  student  less  than  the  same  educa- 
tion in  this  country.  It  is  under  the  auspices  of  the  American 
Woman's  Board,  and  is  self-sustaining  in  all  save  the  salaries. 
These  come  from  the  Board.  The  students  are  mostly  Chris- 
tians, with  now  and  then  a  Turk ;  but  Turks  are  very  rare  who 
send  their  daughters  to  Christian  teachers,  for  reasons  as  stated  in 
connection  with  the  other  school.  Both  schools  are  doing  much 
of  good.  They  are  a  necessity.  Christian  people  would  not 
send  their  children  to  Moslem  schools,  and  an  education  they 
must  have.  The  Greeks  have  schools,  of  course ;  the  Latins 
have  their  schools ;  and  these  come  in  to  fill  a  real  want. 

From  schools  to  church  the  step  is  short.  You  may  never 
have  been  to  a  Dervish  meeting-house,  and  seen  the  unique 
service.  Suppose  you  come  along.  The  admission  is  twenty- 
five  cents  —  cheap  enough.  And  while  we  think  of  it,  why  don't 
Christian  people  take  up  their  contributions  at  the  door,  —  a 
stated  price  of  admission  to  non-communicants  ?  The  admission 
money  is  quite  enough,  they  say,  to  pay  the  priest  and  choir, 
buy  the  holy  candles,  and  keep  the  church  repaired.  A  service 
worth  hearing  is  worth  paying  for. 

But  we  pass  in.  The  room  is  large,  nearly  square,  with 
gallery  above  and  below  on  three  sides,  all  painted  brownish- 
white.  About  the  walls  are  circular  shields,  or  disks,  —  some 
emblem  of  the  faith.  The  floor  is  of  plain  wood  bordered  with 
mats,  —  black  and  white  sheep's  pelts  tanned,  to  kneel  or  sit 
upon.  On  the  side  fronting  the  altar,  as  we  entered,  sat  some 
worshippers,  chanting  slowly,  invoking  Allah,  and  swinging  their 
bodies  slowly  back  and  forth.  More  came  in  afterwards  ;  stoop- 
ing low,  they  kissed  the  hands  of  the  priest  and  master  of  cere- 
monies and  leader  of  the  choir,  then  took  their  places  in  the 
squatted  row,  which  soon  filled  all  one  side  and  part  of  two 
more.  No  prejudice  was  shown  as  to  color ;  white  men  and 
black  mingled  together.  The  active  worshippers  come  to  their 
feet;  the  choir  stays  on  the  floor.  Now  they  fall  to  work. 
Chanting  with  great  vigor,  they  sway  to  and  fro,  and  howl  their 


3l8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

prayers  most  vigorously.  Faster  and  faster  grows  the  music, 
faster  and  faster  pitch  and  sway  the  worshippers.  Their  feet  are 
motionless.  Back  and  forth,  now  to  the  right,  now  to  the  left, 
tossing  their  heads,  jerking  their  sweating  necks ;  their  voices 
mere  hoarse  howls,  all  their  songs  a  hundred  times  repeated 
prayer.  One  swarthy  Nubian,  black  as  coal,  took  the  lead  and 
held  it.  With  rolling  eyes  and  mouth  afoam,  he  yanked  his 
turbaned  head  about,  bent  like  a  tree  before  a  gale,  howled  like 
a  demon  full  of  wrath.  There  came  a  general  snort,  and  then  a 
little  lull,  and  the  healing  was  begun.  Healing  the  sick  by  pious 
means,  you  have  heard  of  such  before,  —  by  laying  on  of  holy 
hands,  by  touch  of  relics  of  some  saint ;  but  this  was  something 
new.  Now  watch  the  priest  by  the  altar-apse.  Some  woolly  skins 
are  spread  before  his  feet.  He  faces  the  howlers,  who  increase 
their  howls ;  the  choir  chants  on  a  higher  key.  See  that  puny, 
sickly  babe,  scarce  a  twelvemonth  old,  swathed  in  many  a  fold. 
Its  father  brings  it  in.  No  mothers  enter  here.  They  lay  it  on 
its  little  pain-pinched  face  upon  the  rug.  Horror  !  The  stal- 
wart priest  treads  on  its  fragile  form  ;  he  stands  with  both  feet 
upon  it !  Loud  and  louder  shouts  the  choir ;  loud  and  louder 
howls  the  mass  ;  faster  and  faster  sways  the  crowd.  The  priest 
steps  off;  the  infant  is  wailing;  the  fother  takes  it  in  his  arms; 
the  priest  breathes  thrice  upon  its  face.  It 's  cured  !  Others, 
big  and  small,  babes  and  grown  men,  patients  all,  prostrate  them- 
selves before  the  sainted  man,  some  on  their  hips,  some  on  their 
knees  ;  the  chorus  does  its  noisy  work,  the  priest  walks  on  them, 
puffs  holy  breath  upon  the  sickly  ones  ;  the  cure  is  made.  Bot- 
tles blessed  and  breathed  on  by  the  holy  priest  are  carried  forth 
to  such  as  cannot  come.  The  priest  puts  on  his  heavier  robes ; 
he  waves  his  hand  ;  worship  is  done. 

Now  the  doctor  was  there  —  the  doctor,  who,  with  the 
bishop,  had  come  out  to  meet  us  on  our  way  and  return  with 
us.  He  was  at  this  dervish  healing-school,  to  learn.  With  eyes 
intent  and  every  sense  absorbed,  he  noted  every  move.  We 
questioned  him ;  but  doctors  do  not  always  tell  their  inner 
thoughts,  but  await  their  own  experiments. 

But  the  priest  here  at  the  dervishes'  is  not  a  common  man,  — 
he  is  a  saint ;  so  he  is  claimed  to  be.  Doctors,  sometimes,  are 
not ;  and  if  they  are  or  not,  is  hard  to  tell.  But  this  priest  and 
people  quote  no  end  of  cures.     They  say  this  standing  on  the 


CONSTANTINOPLE.  3  1 9 

sick  just  drives  the  evil  spirit  out.  First  cast  out  the  devil  from 
within  which  causes  the  sickness  ;  the  patient  will  get  well,  if  Allah 
wills  it  so.  Nothing  is  more  simple  or  easier ;  but  the  treat- 
ment is  not  new.  It  varies  a  little  ;  but  there  is,  indeed,  much 
precedent  for  casting  demons  out,  —  making  whole  the  sick  that 
way  ;  also  by  human  touch.  Only  such  as  are  saints  can  do  it 
really  well.  And  so  the  things  of  life  repeat  themselves.  So 
come  down  to  us  through  all  the  ages,  years,  and  days,  the  old- 
time  customs.  The  candle  at  the  apse  has  burned  many  thou- 
sand years ;  the  holy  water  in  the  font  was  there  before  the 
days  of  Noah ;  the  saintly  healing  of  the  sick  was  practised 
long  before  the  sun  stood  still. 

"  What  nonsense,  rubbish,  rotten  sham  that  was  up  there  !  " 
So  said  my  priestly  friend  as  we  walked  to  the  boat ;  the  same 
priest  we  had  met  in  Jerusalem,  —  an  Australian  vicar,  on  his 
journey  back  to  fatherland. 

"  Yes ;  but  bits  of  bone  and  bits  of  wood  were  used  to  cure 
men's  pains,  even  in  Europe,  scarce  a  hundred  years  ago. 
Was  this  more  sham  than  that?" 

I  wait  an  answer  yet.  For  men  are  much  alike,  Christian 
or  heathen ;  they  believe  what  they  believe ;  no  answers  need 
be  given.  We  are  right ;  the  others  always  wrong.  We  have 
the  panacea ;  all  the  rest  are  shams. 

We  wander  among  the  Turkish  hospitals,  but  gain  no  knowl- 
edge. They  are  behind  the  age,  and  can't  catch  up.  The  hos- 
pital of  Florence  Nightingale,  who  did  such  noble  work  out  here 
during  the  Crimean  war,  is  a  great  building  on  the  Scutari  side, 
but  little  used. 

•  •••••• 

Constantinople  has  a  bad  name,  I  '11  admit ;  and  people  scold 
about  its  streets  and  its  dogs  and  its  dirtiness.  This  is  all  non- 
sense and  unfair.  The  streets  are  indeed  none  of  the  best,  but 
you  may  go  farther  and  fare  worse.  When  the  city  was  built 
carriages  were  not  much  used,  and  many  of  the  streets  are  so 
steep  that  vehicles  could  not  be  used  anyhow ;  but  for  all  that 
there  are  highways  wide  enough  and  smooth  enough  to  take  you 
to  nearly  every  place  of  interest ;  and  where  you  can't  go  in  car- 
riages, you  can  take  a  ready-saddled  horse  or  the  handy  caiques 
—  charming  little  boats  in  which  you  glide  from  point  to  point 
across  the  deep  blue  waters  with  delightful  ease.     Trams  have 


320  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

taken  possession  of  much  of  Pera  and  Stamboul,  and  you  may 
cover  long  distances  in  them  at  small  cost.  And  as  to  dogs,  I 
have  been  among  them  ten  days  and  am  able  to  speak  intelli- 
gently on  the  question.  The  dogs  are  among  the  best  citizens 
here.  They  hold  office,  are  public  scavengers,  and  form  a  canine 
board  of  health  that  patrols  the  streets  day  and  night,  mindful 
of  any  organic  matter  that  might  decompose  and  poison  the  air 
and  induce  contagion.  For  this  most  excellent  ser\-ice  they  get 
no  thanks  and  many  kicks,  —  which  is  too  often  the  case  anions 
humans.  But  nevertheless  they  go  about  their  work,  prevent 
disease,  and  so  save  human  lives.  That  is  doing  good ;  and 
whether  you  do  good,  or  a  dog  does  it,  the  difference,  if  any 
there  be,  is  in  favor  of  the  dog.  They  lie  about  the  streets,  to 
be  sure,  sometimes  soundly  sleeping  in  your  very  path.  They 
sleep  in  the  middle  of  the  streets,  rolled  up  like  little  balls  of  fur, 
in  some  cosey  depression  in  the  rocky  pavement.  But  what  of 
it  ?  The  dog  takes  all  the  risks.  He  knows  that  most  men  are 
friendly  and  will  let  him  take  an  ungrudged  nap ;  he  knows  that 
his  ears  will  wake  him  up  if  a  carriage  comes  ;  he  has  system  in 
everything.  They  have  their  families  and  castes  and  customs, 
and  hold  their  meetings,  and  sometimes  in  these  do  get  a  little 
noisy,  —  very  much  like  men  in  that  respect.  They  don't  get 
mad.  Hydrophobia  is  something  almost  unknown  in  Constanti- 
nople, where  dogs  abound,  and  where  no  dog  is  muzzled.  You 
can't  account  for  it,  but  so  it  is.  It  seems  to  have  been  arranged 
somehow  in  the  economies  of  nature  that  these  dogs  shall  es- 
cape the  rabies  and  live  and  do  their  work  that  men  may  live 
and  do  theirs.  So,  on  the  whole,  the  Constantinople  dog  may 
be  considered  a  real  blessing.  Then,  after  all,  the  street-and- 
dog  question  does  n't  hurt  the  city  much  ;  and,  so  far  from  being 
a  place  to  be  avoided,  it  is  the  very  place  of  places  in  all  Europe 
that  the  intelligent  traveller  should  visit.  Most  beautiful  of  all 
the  cities  of  the  world  is  this,  most  interesting  from  many 
points  of  view ;  with  wondrous  lines  of  beauty  in  its  shores,  its 
bold  projections,  dainty  nooks,  and  stately  elevations,  temple- 
crowned  ;  its  palaces  a  dream.  You  cannot  say  that  you  have 
seen  much  of  the  world  abroad,  if  you  have  left  out  this  grand 
old  city.  And  the  accommodations  are  good  as  they  will  average, 
better,  perhaps.  You  need  not  fear  about  the  comforts,  the 
weather,  or  the  attractions,  but  be  sure  and  see  this  grand  old 


CONS  TANTINOPLE.  3  2  I 

inter-continental  city.  Here  the  great  continents  meet ;  here 
Europe  and  Asia  shake  hands  across  the  neat  and  narrow  Bos- 
phorus  ;  here  the  widely  variant  religions  meet,  —  the  crescent 
and  the  cross.  Here  on  the  broad  pontoon  bridge  that  weds 
Stamboul  to  Pera  is  the  most  perfect  picture  of  moving  human- 
ity you  will  ever  see.  The  bridge  is  some  eighty  feet  in  width 
and  always  crowded,  and  is  never  without  some  soldiers.  Men 
of  every  color  and  every  clime,  every  style  of  raiment,  cut  and 
color,  tone  and  tint,  —  men,  women,  children,  prince,  and  pauper 
jostle  here  ;  the  porters  with  heavy  loads  ;  the  dandy  Turk  with 
waxed  mustache  and  cane ;  soldiers  belaced  and  spurred,  ca- 
vasses  armed  like  arsenals  with  swords  that  never  cut  and  pistols 
that  never  shoot ;  women  who  hide  their  charms  or  ugliness  with 
veils,  and  those  who  do  not  veil  at  all ;  Circassians,  Georgians, 
Greeks,  and  Persians  ;  people  from  almost  everywhere,  pagan 
and  Christian,  porters  and  priests ;  armed  men  and  eunuchs,  beg- 
gars and  boatmen ;  hatted,  turbaned,  and  befezzed,  —  an  ever- 
moving  multitude  most  picturesque  to  see.  The  bridge  takes 
you  everywhere.  From  it  you  take  the  ever-plying  local  boats 
that  plough  the  Bosphorus  or  the  placid  Golden  Horn  ;  from  here 
you  go  to  mosque,  bazaar,  or  tower ;  from  this  same  bridge  you 
go  to  Scutari,  or  to  Seraglio  Point,  or  anywhere  you  like,  for  it 
is  the  great  meeting  and  starting  point  in  this  grand  urban  link 
between  the  West  and  East. 

Though  in  the  main  an  Oriental  city,  —  home  of  the  Turk, 
Armenian,  and  Greek,  —  the  ordinary  architecture  of  Constanti- 
nople is  of  Italian  cast.  The  Genoese  and  Venetian  folks  were 
here  in  great  force  long  before  the  Turkish  occupation,  and  the 
architectural  tone  they  gave  the  place  seems  not  to  have  been 
changed.  Aside  from  clustered  domes  and  minarets,  the  city 
view  from  Galata  (castle)  tower,  or  that  which  you  get  from 
buildings  while  driving  through  the  streets,  there  comes  no  hint 
that  you  are  beyond  the  pale  of  Christian  lands.  For  one  who 
takes  an  interest  in  elegant  effects  in  brick  and  stone,  this  is  the 
place  to  study.  In  all  the  Christian  world  he  finds  the  Gothic 
church  more  or  less  pure ;  but  here  is  the  Byzantine.  Which 
is  the  most  attractive  ?  If  you  stand  before  the  Gothic  grandeur 
at  Cologne,  you  think  it  is  the  fairest  fane  on  earth  ;  if  you  look 
on  St.  Sophia  here,  or  mosque  of  Solyman,  you  may  have  to 
cast  your  ballot  for  the  Byzantine.    Ambitious  domes  in  clustered 

21 


322  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

bulbs,  a  grand  dome  yet  above  here  speaks  to  you  of  earth 
and  skies,  and  heaven  over  all.  The  one  a  hint  within,  with- 
out, of  savagery,  of  forest  life ;  the  other  speaks  of  worlds 
made  glad,  of  faiths  combined,  with  God  and  heaven  over  all. 
The  minarets  add  beauty  to  the  scene,  those  tall  and  slender 
spires  that  pierce  the  upper  air,  —  great  out-door  candles  whose 
wicks  should  be  aflame  to  light  the  earthly  pathways  down 
below. 


ROUMANIA   AND  AUSTRIA.  323 


CHAPTER   XXL 

ROUMANIA   AND   AUSTRIA. 

Bucharest,  "  City  of  Enjoyment."  — Turn  Severin.  —  A  Merry  Gathering. 
—  Up  the  Danube.  —  Budapest.  —  A  City  of  Hospitals.  —  Vienna. — 
Her  Architectural  Beauties.  —  The  Surgical  Mecca  of  the  World. — 
Medical  Students  at  Home  and  Abroad. 

ENTERING  or  leaving  Turkey  or  Russia,  passports  must 
be  shown,  —  a  requirement  which  is  rarely  made  in  other 
lands.  They  not  only  make  you  show,  but  make  you  pay.  The 
water  service  between  Constantinople  and  Varna  on  the  Black 
Sea  —  a  fifteen  hours'  ride  —  is  Austrian- Lloyds  and  villanous, 
—  so-called  accommodations  at  exorbitant  cost.  From  Varna 
there  is  no  choice  of  travel ;  one  must  go  by  rail  to  Rustchuck, 
take  the  Oriental  Express  that  goes  straight  through  to  Paris,  and 
is  provided  with  dining  and  sleeping  cars.  We  broke  the  trip 
at  Bucharest,  "  City  of  Enjoyment,"  —  the  pretty  capital  of  Rou- 
mania.  They  call  the  place  "  the  litde  Paris,"  and,  surely  from 
its  neatness  and  its  well-paved  streets  and  fine  hotels,  it  well 
deserves  the  tide.  The  road  from  Varna  there  and  on  to  Turn 
Severin  is  through  as  fine  a  farming  tract  as  one  could  wish. 
The  broad  rolling  farming  lands  are  largely  devoted  to  raising 
sheep  and  cattle,  large  flocks  and  herds  of  which  are  seen  on 
either  side.  No  fairer-looking  land  than  this  have  we  seen 
anywhere.  No  wonder  the  Turk  disliked  to  give  it  up  and  lose 
the  fat  revenues  its  husbandry  afforded.  But  by  force  of  arms 
he  stole  it  from  some  one  else,  and  by  the  same  high  law  he  lost 
it,  —  it  and  many  other  lands  as  good.     Such  is  fate. 

You  will  not  find  Turn  Severin  on  the  map,  —  that  is,  not  now  ; 
but  had  you  lived  some  two  thousand  or  so  years  ago  you  might 
have  known  it  better.  The  place  was  once  a  thrifty  Roman 
point,  named  after  the  Roman  Emperor,  Septimus  Severus,  who 
had  his  stronghold  here  in  a  large  and  prosperous  city.  Here 
across  the  broad  blue  Danube  the  Romans  built  a  massive  bridge 
of  stone,  the  abutment  ruins  being  yet  visible,  and  on  an  emi- 


324  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

nence  close  by  the  village  are  the  once  strong  castle  ruins,  — 
ruins  of  tower  and  palace  walls  within  the  heart  of  vast  possessions. 
We  came  here  on  Easter  Monday,  and  the  town  and  country 
round  about  had  come  together  for  hoHday  pastime.  Some 
hundreds  of  people,  mostly  young  or  middle-aged,  were  gath- 
ered on  the  green  and  open  space,  playing  at  rustic  games  and 
dancing  native  dances,  getting  their  fill  of  genuine  enjoyment. 
Dressed  in  the  costumes  of  the  country,  in  white  and  many- 
colored  stuffs,  short  skirts  and  sleeves  and  pointed  bodices, 
tricked  out  with  jewelry  and  tinsel  stuff,  they  made  a  gay,  bright 
picture.  Many  of  the  young  men  wore  white  tunic  frocks  and 
jaunty  caps  with  bird's  feathers.  They  danced  such  dances  as 
we  never  saw,  —  in  great  rings,  with  the  single  bagpipe  music 
inside,  —  all  holding  hands,  men  and  women,  lads  and  lassies, 
interlocked.  They  played  and  laughed,  ate  creams  and  bon-bons, 
promenaded  two-and-two,  stood  about  in  knots  or  chatty  couples, 
as  young  people  have  done  ever  since  the  human  race  began. 

The  iron  gates  of  the  Danube  are  not  far  from  Severin. 
Through  rugged  mountain  cliffs  of  the  Transylvanian  Alps  the 
mighty  river  rushes.  Against  the  foaming  tide  our  long,  slim, 
handsome  steamer  stoutly  pushed  her  way.  The  weather  was 
charming,  keeping  us  on  deck  till  the  last  riven  and  channelled 
mountain  crag  was  left  behind.  What  great  cataclysm  tore  these 
towering  rocks  apart,  or  how  many  years  it  took  the  rushing 
flood  to  wear  a  channel  through  the  living  stone,  no  one  will 
ever  know.  We  thought  to  leave  the  river  at  Belgrade,  and  con- 
tinue our  journey  by  rail ;  but  our  boat  was  such  a  palace  of 
contentment,  and  the  river-way  so  excellent,  we  made  no  change, 
and  came  on  to  Budapest  afloat.  The  river  winds  by  many  a 
thrifty  village,  and  all  along  the  stream  are  rich  farming  lands,  and 
out  upon  the  water  hundreds  of  tide-mills  for  grinding  grain, 
safe  anchored  in  the  stream.  Of  course  they  make  less  fine  and 
pure  flour  than  the  more  modern  mills,  but  answer  every  purpose 
for  the  common  people.  So  inexpensive  a  way  of  doing  com- 
mon milling  work  might  well  have  attention  on  our  rapid  Western 
streams. 

Budapest,  the  old  Hungarian  capital  when  she  had  a  crown  of 
her  own,  and  the  present  place  of  parliament  under  the  Austrian 
rule,  occupies  both  sides  of  the  sweeping  Danube  curve  ;  has 
palaces  and  parks;  broad  avenues  lined  with  stately  modern 


ROUMANIA   AND  AUSTRIA.  325 

buildings  ;  a  noble  opera ;  clean,  broad,  and  well-paved  streets  ; 
churches  of  many  creeds  and  sects ;  fine  museums,  galleries  of  art, 
a  stately  university,  and  mineral  springs  and  baths;  and  better  yet, 
as  marking  its  humanity  to  man,  a  full  array  of  hospitals.  We 
must  needs  mix  some  pills,  so  to  speak,  with  all  this  pleasure,  for 
as  you  stroll  about  in  a  city  great  or  small,  old  or  new,  and  see  the 
moving  masses,  places  of  learning,  manufactures,  arts,  amuse- 
ments, church  and  state,  this  thought  is  ever  with  you,  —  how 
fares  it  with  the  sick  ?  The  poor,  the  Bible  says,  ye  have  always 
with  you  ;  but  we  have  not  seen  a  beggar  in  Budapest.  The 
sick  you  have,  also,  always  with  you  ;  how  fare  they  here?  The 
more  a  people  grows  up  into  the  love  of  light  and  right,  and  tries 
to  love  his  neighbor  as  himself  in  ways  that  are  useful  and  prac- 
tical, the  better  you  will  find  its  asylums  and  hospitals.  For  if 
we  have  no  care  for  each  other's  aches  and  pains,  do  not  try  to 
heal  the  sick  or  cause  the  lame  to  walk,  how  poor  and  meanly 
selfish  is  the  life  we  lead !  Count  not  on  the  nobility  of  your 
cities  by  the  number  or  height  of  its  spires  or  its  palaces,  but 
upon  the  extent  and  excellence  of  its  schools  and  hospitals. 
That  will  set  you  nearest  right.  In  this  respect  there  is  no  lack 
in  Budapest.  The  city  has  spent  large  sums  of  money  upon  its 
hospitals.  Besides  the  many  public  ones,  there  are  the  military 
and  university  hospitals,  built  with  the  greatest  care  and  con- 
ducted with  the  best  of  skill.  To  see  in  Budapest  what  these 
people  do  for  their  university,  and  how  jealously  they  watch  the 
interests  of  education  in  medicine  and  surgery,  makes  one  feel 
that  not  all  of  this  world's  light  and  Christian  care  and  thought 
has  gone  West.  The  other  branches  are  not  neglected,  but  not 
having  time  to  see  them  all,  and  as  surgery  and  hospital  work 
are  real  object  lessons,  we  spent  our  time  on  those.  We  were 
received  most  cordially  by  the  profession  everywhere  we  went, 
from  hall  to  hall  and  ward  to  ward,  among  those  really  pleas- 
ant places  for  the  sick ;  and  seeing  all  these  means  for  teaching 
men  the  healing  art  and  helping  men  to  gain  their  health,  we 
thank  our  stars  that  so  much  good  work  is  being  done. 

•  ■••••• 

Vienna  grows  more  and  more  beautiful  every  year.  Ten 
years  ago  they  said  the  place  was  made  bankrupt  by  its  building 
boom,  but  it  has  kept  right  on  with  its  architectural  improve- 
ments until  it  has  almost  eclipsed  its  European  competitors. 


326  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

There  are  no  such  ambitious  structures  here  as  in  many  places, 
—  no  six,  ten,  or  fifteen  story  buildings  such  as  you  see  in  some 
European  and  American  cities ;  for  there  is  a  law  in  Vienna  that 
no  business  or  residence  block  shall  rise  higher  than  four  stories. 
They  get  around  this  by  counting  from  the  first  floor,  which  in 
most  European  houses  is  found  at  the  top  of  the  first  story,  so 
that  what  you  term  the  first  story  is  no  story  at  all,  and  hence 
the  Vienna  house  really  has  five  stories.  As  most  of  these  are 
liberally  spaced  between  joints,  they  seem  quite  high  enough ; 
and  with  the  immense  amount  of  projection  and  ornamentation, 
they  make  a  very  elegant  appearance.  All  builders  seem  to 
take  great  pains  with  their  work,  and  the  result  is  that  Vienna 
has  some  of  the  most  elegant  streets  in  the  world. 

People  cannot  build  here  as  they  please.  In  most  American 
cities,  a  man  can  build  just  as  fine  or  just  as  ugly  a  house  as  he 
may  choose.  In  the  perfection  of  our  liberty  he  can  make  it 
any  size,  figure,  or  shape,  any  thickness  of  wall,  any  sort  of 
interior  partition  walls,  —  in  a  word,  he  can  put  up  a  palace  or 
a  hovel.  It  is  not  so  here.  In  this  down-trodden  country  one 
must  conform  to  rules  of  symmetry  and  safety.  The  security 
of  those  within  and  without  is  carefully  considered.  This 
despotism  wipes  out  shanties ;  even  cottages  have  no  place ; 
yet  the  utmost  care  is  taken  as  to  appearance.  The  poor  man 
can't  build  a  house  in  Vienna.  He  cannot  conform  to  the  rule. 
He  cannot  get  a  lot  of  cheap  scantling,  boards,  and  nails 
together  and  build  him  a  house.  If  he  wants  a  home  he  must 
rent  a  room  or  suite  of  rooms  in  the  great  substantial  houses 
that  men  of  money  build.  Hence  there  are  no  streets  of  small 
cheaply  built  stores  or  dwellings  here,  and  so  the  city  is  a  place 
of  palaces,  that  grows  more  beautiful  every  year. 

Business  and  homes  are  close  together.  In  our  cities  a  store 
is  a  store,  or  store  and  offices  combined.  Here  the  ground 
floor  and  some  of  the  upper  floors  may  be  devoted  to  stores  and 
offices,  but  there  are  no  end  of  family  rooms  on  the  upper  floors. 
That  this  is  not  so  in  America  is  a  drawback.  Of  course  it  is 
of  no  use  to  preach  about  it,  for  our  young  man  of  small  begin- 
nings, or  no  beginnings  at  all,  prefers  not  to  live  over  his 
store  because  other  people  don't.  So  he  must  have  his  separate 
dwelling  and  the  increased  expenses. 

Vienna  is  a  city  of  fine  streets  and  exceptionally  fine  build- 


ROUMANIA   AND  AUSTRIA.  327 

ings.  Plenty  of  royal  palaces,  no  end  of  military  outfit,  mag- 
nificent public  buildings,  superb  places  of  amusement,  noble 
gardens  and  grand  churches,  and,  to  her  still  greater  fame,  the 
most  extensive  hospital  of  any  city  in  the  world.  This  great 
sanitary  outfit  covers  many  acres,  and  has  many  buildings  and 
much  broad,  well-kept,  open  space  within  the  surrounding  wall 
of  wards  and  lecture-rooms.  This  is  the  surgical  Mecca  of 
the  world.  Here  are  the  most  famous  surgeons ;  here  the 
most  numerous  list  of  medical  professors,  whose  lectures  and 
chnics  are  attended  by  students  from  the  four  quarters  of  the 
globe.  The  hospital  service  has  three  thousand  beds,  and  a 
force  sufficient  to  attend  to  them.  Each  professor  has  his  own 
lecture-room  and  his  own  clinic,  and  all  have  their  piques  and 
jealousies,  much  the  same  as  at  other  foundations  of  learning. 
An  attendance  upon  the  clinics  of  several  most  distinguished 
surgeons  made  this  impression  :  that  the  operations  were  un- 
necessarily long  and  tedious  ;  that  the  assistants  were  too  many 
by  half,  —  eight  to  each  professor ;  and  that  the  work  was  no 
more  efficient  than  is  done  at  home.  But  reputation  makes  the 
difference.  Doubtless  our  young  doctors  can  learn  everything 
in  America  that  they  learn  here,  and  at  less  cost,  for  there  is 
nothing  cheap  in  Vienna  ;  but  it  is  the  fashion  to  come  abroad 
to  study,  and  the  young  man  who  is  able  to  come  argues  that 
though  he  has  all  medical  knowledge,  and  is  able  to  perform 
wonders  upon  frames  diseased,  yet  not  having  been  to  Vienna, 
he  is  nothing.  So  he  goes.  Many  go  to  study ;  some  don't. 
The  great  majority  of  American  students  have  the  reputation  of 
being  ardent,  painstaking,  and  hard-working ;  but  some  there 
are  who  prefer  the  fountain  of  Java  and  Mocha  to  those  of 
Esculapius  and  Hippocrates. 

"  Is  it  true,  as  is  sometimes  stated,  that  our  young  men  come 
here,  take  rooms,  select  a  special  housekeeper,  and  live  in  this 
questionable  way  during  their  student  life  in  Vienna?" 

This  was  the  question,  toned  down,  that  was  asked  of  an 
American  student  who  had  been  studying  here  some  time.  The 
impression  was  abroad  ;  the  questioner  wished  to  investigate. 

"  No  and  yes."  The  negative,  he  went  on  to  say,  covered 
the  great  majority  of  our  students  here,  so  far  as  his  information 
or  belief  extended.  But  here,  as  almost  anywhere,  there  were 
students  of  peculiar  ways,  who  have  no  serious  intention  of 


328  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

injuring  tlieir  health  by  over-study,  and  who  succeed  very  well 
in  that  direction.  The  course  of  study  is  five  years ;  but  as 
there  are  frequent  and  long  vacations  and  no  end  of  holidays, 
—  most  of  which  are  rigidly  observed,  —  the  real  time  spent  in 
work  in  these  five  years  is  not  more  than  is  spent  in  our  three 
years'  courses.  Besides  this,  there  seems  no  interest  felt  between 
professor  and  student.  The  conditions  remind  me  much  of 
Catholic  church  ceremonies.  The  mass  is  had  at  such  and 
such  an  hour,  whether  there  is  an  audience  or  not.  The  lec- 
ture is  said,  the  clinic  held,  whether  the  students  be  many  or 
few,  or  none  at  all.  If  the  student  does  not  choose  to  come, 
that  is  his  own  affair ;  the  professor  has  no  care  for  that.  He 
provides  the  feast,  he  has  his  pay  for  it ;  the  student  may  par- 
take or  let  it  alone.  The  student  is  of  age,  supposed  to 
know  what  he  is  there  for,  and  is  at  perfect  liberty  to  make  his 
own  choice. 

So  much  for  medical  matters.     They  are  alluded  to  because 
this  is  the  centre  of  surgical  knowledge,  and  must  not  be  over- 
looked.    It  may  do  no  good  to  say  to  our  young  doctors  that 
they  can  gain  in  America  all  they  can  gain  here  in  their  pro- 
fession.    They   will   come  here  still,  —  here,    or   to    Berlin,   or 
Paris.    And  it  is  not  a  bad  idea.    Be  he  doctor,  lawyer,  preacher, 
writer,  or  follower  of  any  other  profession  or  calling,  if  he  looks 
abroad,  intent  on  study  of  the  ways  and  means  of  other  men 
and  countries,    he  is  the  better  man  in  his  calling   for  having 
done    so.     To  be  well  informed  in  any   way  one    must  have 
studied  far  and  wide  ;  and  he  is  better  and  broader  if  he  has 
looked  beyond  the  books  and  gone   about  the  world  awhile. 
Too  many  studied  men  are  hke  a  tall  cathedral  spire,  —  tall, 
towering   above   all  other   steeples,  yet   nothing    but    a   tower 
after  all.     They  are  minus  the  cathedral,  —  a  lofty  part,  yet  lack- 
ing in  that  other  lowlier,  broader,  more    comprehensive    part, 
without  which  the  structure  is  incomplete. 


ITALY.  329 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

ITALY. 

Across  the  Brenner  Alps.  —  Verona  and  Shakspearian  Memories. — 
Bologna.  —  The  Story  of  a  Precious  Painting.  —  A  Sanitary  Pageant. 
—  The  Home  of  Galvani  and  of  Galileo.  —  Naples  —  Her  Pictures  and 
Her  Marbles. —  The  Farnese  Bull.  —  The  Pompeian  Museum.  —  Relics 
of  a  By-gone  Civilization.  —  The  Aquarium  at  Naples. 

THIS  is  Italy.  You  need  not  travel  far  in  this  Italian  land 
to  find  an  interesting  stopping-place.  The  world  of  tour- 
ists has  no  thought  of  other  towns  than  Rome  and  Florence, 
Naples,  Milan,  Venice,  Pisa  perhaps ;  but  the  myriad  other 
places,  with  fair  cathedrals,  frescos,  paintings  rare,  and  scenery 
most  grand,  are  quite  too  much  ignored.  Most  travellers  would 
cover  great  spaces.  With  such  as  lack  experience,  long  latitudes 
and  longitudes  mean  almost  everything.  From  Naples  up  to 
North  Cape,  from  Liverpool  to  Cairo,  from  Edinburgh  to  Buda- 
pest, —  that  is  a  summer  travel ;  go  whirling  through  the  Alps, 
and  talk  of  Alpine  scenery  ;  go  racing  down  the  Rhine,  and  rave 
of  castles  scarcely  seen ;  spend  moments  in  the  noblest  painting 
rooms  and  grandest  halls  of  sculpture,  —  this  is  common  travel, 
the  common  way  of  feasting  on  European  sights.  "  I  may  never 
come  here  again,  so  I  must  see  it  all ;  "  this  is  the  common 
crude  idea.  Don't  laugh,  but  pity  such ;  you  might  do  the  same 
yourself 

The  way  across  the  Brenner  Alps  is  very  full  of  vistas,  far  and 
near.  Snow- clad  mountain  peaks  look  down  on  flower  banks 
and  grassy  vales  ;  the  ambitious  rail  creeps  well  along  the  chasm's 
brink  and  wriggles  up  and  down  the  Alpine  steeps,  across  the 
rushing  streams,  past  tipped-up  mountain  farms  that  cling  aloft 
among  .the  rocks  or  the  many-terraced  vines  from  whose  rich 
fruit  full  many  a  vintage  river  flows.  Hour  after  hour,  we  pass 
tunnel,  gorge,  and  mountain  face ;  torrent,  cascade,  glacier 
stream  ;  castle,  hamlet,  arched  bridge  ;  luxuriant  vines,  olive 
groves,  fruit  blooms,  grassy  glens,  and  bursting  flowers.     The 


330  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Brenner  Alps  are  all  aglow  with  energetic  and  beauteous  life. 
You  see  the  rustic  houses  nestling  in  the  hills  ;  the  peasants  at 
their  work  ;  the  shepherd  with  his  flocks  ;  you  see  their  homely, 
hearty,  wholesome  daily  life  amid  this  ever  wondrous  Alpine 
poem,  and  you  no  more  wonder  at  this  love  of  country  and  this 
long-continued  happiness. 

And  yet  —  and  yet  we  have  to  pity  them.  They  live  beneath 
the  shadow  of  a  king  ;  they  know  not  America  !  How  can  they 
love  their  homes?  This  is  Austria.  How  fare  these  people  on 
their  cramped-up  farms,  when  prairies  are  so  very  broad  and 
wide  ?  And  yet,  maybe,  they  are  happy  here  ;  they  live  and  die, 
have  loves  and  feasts  and  many  a  cosey  home  and  countless  happy 
days  ;  they  have  enough  to  eat  and  wear,  and  enough  priests  to 
pray,  and  taxes  to  be  paid ;  and  enough  births,  marriages,  and 
deaths.  They  have  mostly  lovely  scenery,  and  God  is  above 
them  all  the  while  ;  and  yet  we  must  needs  pity  them,  —  they 
don't  live  in  Dakota  ! 

You  come  down  from  out  the  gorges,  out  to  the  Italian  line  ; 
open  and  shut  valises  as  a  merest  form  ;  and  step  down  at  old 
Verona.  Two  gentlemen,  they  say,  once  lived  here,  and  may  do 
so  still.  Perhaps  we  saw  them,  for  the  people  are  surely  cour- 
teous. The  balcony  from  which  Miss  Juliet  dropped  her  honeyed 
words  into  young  Romeo's  open  heart  they  now  point  out, 
even  the  ancient  coffin  where  she  all  too  early  found  unwelcome 
rest  \  and  then  they  sell  you  photographs.  This  is  all  romance  ; 
so  are  many  things  you  like  to  see.  The  grand  old  Roman 
theatre  that  held  ten  thousand  men,  the  well-kept  arches,  kingly 
seats,  and  dens  for  snarling  beasts,  excite  your  wonder ;  but 
what  are  circling  rows  of  steps,  and  stairs,  and  vast  arena  corri- 
dors, to  that  old  story  of  young  Juliet's  love  and  Romeo's?  The 
rocks  the  Romans  piled  up,  tier  on  tier,  are  very  firm  and  last- 
ing ;  the  loves  that  Shakspeare  pictures  here  are  yet  more 
deathless  in  the  minds  of  men,  —  a  picture  drawn  upon  the  heart 
that  time  cannot  efface.  Stone  may  crumble,  marbles  turn  to 
dust ;  but  Ruths  and  Romeos  renew  their  youthhood  every  year. 

Coming  to  Bologna,  the  rich  tilled  fields  that  cram  the  valley 
of  the  Po  attract  you  with  triple  crop  of  silk-worm  food,  and 
vine,  and  field  and  garden  stuff.  It  is  a  land  of  never-ending 
fatness.  These  great  rich  acres  never  cease  to  bless  the  world 
with  food,  with  meat  and  drink  and  costly  raiment.    The  people 


ITALY.  331 

have  snug  homes  ;  their  acres  yield  no  weeds  ;  their  children 
shout  for  joy,  and  seed-time  and  abundant  harvest  come  with 
happy  hohdays  ;  the  winter  is  not  cold,  the  summer  none  too 
warm,  and  the  people  are  content ;  and  yet  we  must  needs  pity 
them,  for  here  they  cannot  know  much  about  our  land  of 
liberty  beyond  the  deep  blue  sea  I 

"  In  half  an  hour  you  '11  see  the  procession,  right  here,  right 
out  here,  gentlemen,  —  here  from  these  windows  1  " 

That  was  what  the  Brun  hotel  man  said  in  Bologna,  as  he 
opened  large  airy  rooms  that  looked  on  the  piazza. 

"  What  procession  ?"  we  asked.  Our  friend  the  bishop  said 
it  was  Whit-Sunday.  The  doctor  said,  "  Oh,  psha  !  "  The  rest 
of  us  simply  waited. 

It  came  with  music,  robed  priests  and  acolytes,  banners, 
music,  crucifixes,  canopy,  candles  alight,  and  many  a  matron 
with  never-failing  faith  and  waxen  flame.  Some  were  young 
and  fair,  but  most  were  ripe  of  years.  With  singing,  brazen 
music,  oras  and  response,  gorgeous  robes  of  many  hues,  cloaks 
of  red,  and  homely  garb  of  common  folk,  —  so  the  procession 
came  and  stayed,  and  knelt  and  prayed,  and  went  away.  We 
could  n't  understand  it ;  we  took  the  bishop's  word  —  't  was 
Whit-Sunday. 

Later  on,  at  table  d'hote,  amid  the  noise  of  clinking  glasses, 
knives,  and  forks,  came  forth  a  woman's  still,  small  voice  : 
"  Whit-Sunday  comes  in  June  !  "  Then  for  the  first  time  we 
lost  confidence  in  the  bishop.  He  went  away  and  looked  up 
the  procession  story.     Maybe  it 's  worth  telling  here. 

Some  scores  of  years  ago  a  rather  pious  painter  who  had  some 
gift  of  inspiration  in  his  brush  painted  a  Virgin  Mary.  There 
is  not  a  painter  living,  nor  one  dead  for  eighteen  hundred  years 
and  more,  who  has  not  done  the  same  thing.  Saint  Luke,  they 
say,  began  this  sort  of  art.  He  was  an  artist ;  he  did  the  draw- 
ing, then  as  he  slept  the  loving  angels  did  the  rest,  and  so  the 
world  received  its  authentic  picture  of  Christ  and  Mary.  And 
thus  this  other  artist  made  a  picture.  If  you  have  any  doubt, 
go  now  into  the  crowd  ;  beneath  the  canopy  there  you  will  find 
it.  It  is  no  Raphael,  has  no  firm  claim  on  art ;  but  after  all,  as 
we  must  all  believe,  it  was  well  inspired.  At  all  events,  it  gained 
renown.      The  pestilence  came  here  some  scores  of  years  ago, 


332  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  death  walked  forth  among  the  crowded  streets,  gathering 
the  ripened  wheat  and  the  flowers  of  youth  that  grew  between, 
as  death  too  often  does.  The  people  wailed  and  called  on 
Heaven  for  aid.  'T  were  better  to  have  cleaned  their  streets, 
you  lightly  say ;  but  the  plague  was  already  here,  and  aid  must 
be  employed.  You  know  how  it  is  with  people.  They  drone 
away  their  time,  and  abet  a  plague  by  unclean  ways ;  but  when 
the  tribulation  comes  they  take  to  their  knees  as  a  sudden,  cer- 
tain cure  for  every  ill.  This  unknown  painter  hung  his  inspired 
picture  in  a  parish  church  in  the  lowest,  darkest,  sickliest  part  of 
the  town.  In  every  church  within  this  goodly  town  were  pictures 
of  our  precious  Mother  Mary,  but  none  were  so  sanctified  as 
this.  The  plague  came  on,  and  thousands  died  in  hopeless  pain, 
and  more  died  in  this  infectious  parish  than  in  the  other  ones ; 
yet  such  as  did  not  die  counted  themselves  well  protected  by 
this  precious  picture,  whereat  the  people  were  most  glad,  and 
offered  prayers  and  praise.  Year  after  year,  and  several  times  a 
year  for  many  scores  of  years,  came  this  procession  forth  with 
this  dear  picture,  and  with  music,  song,  psean,  and  praise,  to 
march  from  church  to  church,  with  paternosters,  aves,  orisons, 
to  save  the  place  from  further  plague  and  scourge.  Sometimes 
disease  lurked,  but  there  was  no  complaint. 

A  score  or  so  of  years  ago  a  conqueror  —  Victor  Emmanuel 
—  came  into  power,  and  finding  his  kingdom  much  given  up  to 
churchly  holidays,  — too  much,  he  said,  for  real  good  to  church 
or  state,  —  he  called  a  halt,  and  this  procession  among  the  rest 
has  stood  at  halt  some  fifteen  years  or  more.  But  cholera  came, 
you  know,  last  year,  and  made  sad  havoc  with  the  French ; 
and  the  Italians  feared  it  might  reach  them ;  so  the  few  God- 
fearing people  left  in  Bologna  pleaded  with  the  powers  of  states 
to  let  the  procession  move  once  more,  and  so  keep  off  the  ugly 
plague.  The  Government  consented  for  this  year,  —  for  a  con- 
sideration of  fifteen  hundred  francs.  The  sum  was  paid  ;  and 
the  procession  moved  again  for  the  first  time  in  fifteen  years,  — 
went  round  with  picture,  music,  candles,  cross,  and  choir,  from 
church  to  church,  and  made  the  city  safe. 

You  do  not  believe  it !  No  one  asks  you  to.  Come  here 
and  see  for  yourself.  There  is  cholera  in  Venice,  but  not  a  case 
in  this  good  old  sausage  town.  The  long  arcaded  streets  are 
sweet  and  clean,  well  scrubbed  of  mud  and  filth ;  the  doctors, 


ITALY.  333 

city  officers,  are  all  alert ;  then  comes,  to  cap  the  whole,  this 
well-kept  bit  of  sainted  paint,  with  bishop,  bells,  and  robed 
priests,  and  so  the  plague  is  baffled. 

Full  long  is  this  procession.  You  see  it  tramping  down  the 
aisles  of  time  for  many  a  thousand  years ;  you  hear  its  tramp, 
its  orisons,  for  eighteen  hundred  years  ;  you  hear  its  footsteps, 
muffled  notes,  for  twice  two  thousand  years  ;  down  through  the 
heathen  times  it  came,  with  prayerful  priests  and  blood  of  goat 
and  rams ;  down  through  the  Christian  times  it  comes,  with 
Mary-painted  miracles,  candle-light  instead  of  resin  torch,  — 
all  to  withstand  and  mollify  the  very  righteous  wrath  of  powers 
that  rule  the  world. 

So  do  our  customs,  human  customs,  cling  to  us.  Ten 
thousand  people  gathered  in  the  square  to  see  this  sanitary 
pageant.  But  at  the  call  for  prayers,  who  kneeled?  The  priests, 
the  acolytes,  the  women  with  tallow-dropping  candles,  and  now 
and  then  a  woman  in  the  crowd.  The  men  stood  on  their  feet, 
with  covered  heads,  —  declaring  disbelief  and  want  of  sympa- 
thy. You  try  to  analyze  this  thing.  Are  these  processions 
Christian?  Are  they  but  a  continuation  of  old  heathen  rites? 
Copied  they  surely  are  ;  dressed  anew  in  some  remote  degree,  — 
not  as  to  raiment,  music,  chanting,  wreaths  of  roses  on  the  head 
of  youth,  —  but  candles  instead  of  torches.  The  painting  is  of 
this  age  ;  the  rest  —  the  cross,  the  mitre,  crosier  —  date  back 
five  thousand  years. 

Leaning  across  the  cushioned  window-sill,  you  close  your 
eyes  and  think.  Two  thousand  years  and  less  ago  the  court 
to  which  your  face  is  turned  was  a  temple  of  the  central 
Roman  god,  great  Jupiter.  There  stood  the  statue  of  the 
power  that  grasped  the  lightnings,  hurled  the  bolts  of  thun- 
der, had  children,  ruled  the  world.  You  see  the  sacrificial 
altar  there  beneath  the  marble  dome ;  your  inturned  eyes  behold 
the  grand  procession  there ;  your  ears  now  catch  the  music  of 
the  harp  and  horn  and  cymbals  ;  the  praise  of  Jove  is  played 
and  sung,  the  priests  and  people  bow  their  heads  and  bend  their 
knees. 

Two  thousand  years  pass  instantly.  You  look.  Gone  are  the 
temple,  Jove,  and  sacrifice  ;  come  is  the  altar-church  across 
the  way.  The  procession  has  not  changed ;  the  Christian  is 
the  pagan  rebaptized.     The  one  your  closed  eyes  saw  besought 


334  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

its  God  for  plenty,  peace,  and  health  ;  the  one  your  open  eyes 
now  see  so  plainly  beseeches  God  for  health  and  peace  and 
bread  for  all.  What  then  has  changed  ?  Will  he  who  wanders 
here  two  thousand  years  to  come  find  also  people  here  beseech- 
ing heaven  for  peace  and  health,  and  bread  enough  to  eat  ?  I 
think  so.  Nations  come  and  go ;  religions  live  and  change ; 
but  faith  in  God  is  always  strong,  and  on  Him  we  call  for  safety 
and  bread  and  wholesome  breath.  Times  change ;  our  needs, 
our  wants,  our  prayers,  are  much  the  same. 

You  can  read  of  Bologna  in  the  books  ;  her  noble  schools 
have  helped  the  world  along ;  her  scholars  have  made  names. 
When  ?  Who  put  the  silver  on  the  knife  you  are  eating  with  ? 
Who  galvanized  the  million  miles  of  wire  with  which  your  farms 
are  fenced?  Who  touched  the  dead  nerves  of  the  froc  and 
caused  new  life  to  come  ?  Your  jewelry ;  your  table-ware  ;  your 
harness  ornaments ;  the  metal  plate,  perhaps,  whereon  your  new- 
found teeth  are  strung ;  the  iron  roof  above  your  head ;  the 
common  coal-hod  at  your  feet ;  the  miles  of  fence  about  your 
farm,  return  the  questions.  Galvani  has  a  noble  statue  here. 
He  and  other  noble  men  of  science,  culture,  fruitful  brains, 
lived  here  and  from  Bologna  taught  the  world. 

But  time  was  short,  and  trains  won't  wait ;  and  we  came  on  by 
mountain  rail  across  the  tunnelled  Apennines  to  this  grand  Tus- 
can city  of  Florence.  You  don't  expect  description  of  this 
centre  of  the  world  of  art  and  marble  music  ;  you  can't  understand 
without  the  sight  of  these  two  miles  of  gallery  art,  nor  see  the 
sight  from  off  Galileo's  house,  or  from  the  walls  and  Fiesolian 
drives.  These  and  the  noble  domes  and  tombs  of  kings  and  kings 
of  art  and  thought,  the  miracles  in  stone  and  bronze  and  carven 
wood  and  jewelled  gems  and  ivory,  you  must  come  here  to  see. 
No  depth  of  ink  can  float  them  to  your  mind  and  eye ;  no 
picturing  with  pens  can  tell  you  what  you  most  would  like  to 
know ;  you  must  come  here  to  see.  Here  one  may  see  the 
processes  by  which  the  artist's  thought  is  born  of  i)lastic  clay  ;  by 
which  the  self-same  figure  that  the  artist  found  within  his  thought- 
ful mind  is  found  within  the  rough-split  marble  block  that  comes 
here  from  the  quarry.  Great  men  these  Florentines.  They 
walk  about  and  dream  they  see  angelic  figures  in  the  very 
paving-stones,  and  go  to  work  and  prove  the  dream. 


ITALY.  335 

You  might  not  care  to  come  to  Naples  to  see  Naples.  It  is 
very  much  like  other  well-known  ports,  —  something  like  Liver- 
pool, Hamburg,  or  Marseilles ;  better,  perhaps,  than  either, 
which  is  not  saying  much.  The  views  are  really  grand.  Some 
do  say  there  are  colossal  smells ;  but  that  is  guide-book  stuff, 
based  on  what  Naples  was,  not  what  she  is.  To  be  fair  with  her 
and  tell  the  truth,  she  is  about  as  clean  as  any  seaport  town  in 
any  land.  But  travellers  will  always  tell  yarns  of  awful  smells, — 
not  that  they  ever  smell  them,  but  because  they  have  read  it  in 
a  book.  And  if  there  were  smells,  what 's  the  use  of  parading 
them  ?  They  are  neither  pleasant  nor  instructive.  Look  at  the 
views.  Views  are  what  you  get  at  Naples,  —  glorious  views,  — 
better  than  can  be  had  in  many  a  place  that  is  called  clean. 
Look  off  up  there  to  Vesuvius,  smoking  his  big-bowled  pipe 
and  spitting  fire.  Look  out  across  the  noble  bay  and  take  in 
Capri,  —  gem  of  the  sea,  home  of  Tiberias.  Look  over  to  Sor- 
rento,—  garden  spot  of  orange  groves  and  olive-trees,  a  per- 
petual summer.  Look  across  this  loveliest  of  bays  to  beauteous 
Baice,  —  bluffed  round  about  with  verdured  slopes,  once  fringed 
with  Roman  palaces,  —  the  popular  patrician  lounging-place, 
to  which  brave  generals  came  to  rest  from  wars,  and  men  of 
dignity  and  state  were  wont  to  come  and  lounge  about.  Look 
where  you  may,  —  across  to  Ischia,  brave  Garibaldi's  home,  or 
around  to  Castellamare,  and  you  find  a  sea  of  beauty  every- 
where, the  waters  smooth  and  pure  and  clear,  of  variant 
shades,  blue  prevailing,  beneath  an  atmosphere  of  pearly  tinted 
haze  ;  its  vistas  dreamy,  deep,  enchanting. 

And  yet  you  will  not  care  to  waste  much  time  in  Naples. 
The  best  of  the  sights  are  quite  beyond  the  city  walls.  Yet 
there  are  some  things  here  that  may  interest  you  a  day  or  two, 
some  pretty  things  in  paint,  —  a  Raphael's  Holy  Family,  a  pic- 
ture or  two  by  Rubens,  some  Titians,  Murillos,  now  and  then  a 
Veronese.  But  these  Neapolitans  were  slow  in  works  of  art ; 
and  other  people  got  the  lead  in  gathering  up  old  masters  and 
encouraging  new  ones,  and  they  seem  to  keep  it.  In  archi- 
tecture, as  in  art,  they  lag  behind.  Most  cities  of  this  land 
have  some  peculiar  type  of  buildings.  Naples  has  none.  In 
palace,  church,  business  buildings,  theatre,  or  public  edifices, 
you  find  no  elegant  taste  displayed.  But  the  balconies  !  Every 
opening  that  fronts  the  sun  must  have  a  balcony,  from  which 


336  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

on  feast  and  special  holidays  they  hang  gay-colored  fabrics,  and 
in  sunny  hours  the  women  sit  and  chat  or  work  beneath  their 
gayly  figured  awning  cloths.  Despite  the  architectural  lack, 
these  tall  and  slender  buildings,  with  their  balconied  fronts 
tricked  out  with  bits  of  lovely  color,  pots  of  flowering  plants, 
and  here  and  there  a  pretty  face,  make  up  a  lovely  picture. 

Naples  may  lack  in  painted  pictures,  but  she  has  royal  mar- 
bles. The  Farnese  collection,  —  the  Bull,  the  Hercules  from 
the  baths  of  Caracalla,  —  these  and  hundreds  more  of  the  best 
type  of  Greek  and  Roman  schools  suffice  to  keep  you  busy 
many  an  hour.  The  Farnese  Bull  is  the  grandest  of  colossal 
marbles,  — the  raging  bull,  Antiope  and  her  sons,  the  wicked  Dirce 
and  dogs,  each  life-size,  cut  from  a  single  marble  block.  You 
may  not  have  heard  the  story  that  this  grand  old  marble  tells. 
Well,  Antiope  was  pert  and  pretty,  as  girls  usually  are.  She  mar- 
ried a  king,  a  jealous  one  at  that,  who  made  a  foolish  fuss  about 
his  wife's  baby  boys,  young  Amphion  and  Zethus,  declaring  that 
they  were  immaculate  conceptions,  —sons  of  Jupiter,  and  none 
of  his.  Deistic  offspring,  mystic  births,  had  a  strong  hold,  you 
know,  upon  the  ancient  mind,  nor  has  it  weakened  much  even 
in  these  days  we  like  to  call  so  enlightened.  At  all  events  the 
king  destroyed  the  marriage  certificate,  married  another  woman 
right  away,  locked  Antiope  in  a  lonely  tower,  and  sent  the 
babies  into  the  woods  to  be  eaten  by  wolves.  But  a  shepherd 
found  the  boys,  liked  them,  and  brought  them  up.  Antiope 
escaped  from  prison,  found  her  sons,  but  kept  her  secret  to 
herself.  The  second  wife  —  Queen  Dirce  was  her  name  —  went 
out  among  the  country  hills  one  summer  to  have  some  rest  and 
worship  there  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times.  And 
whom  should  she  come  across  but  her  liusband's  first  wife, 
Antiope,  whom  she  thought  to  be  a  prisoner  !  She  would  stop 
this  right  away.  Calling  in  Amphion  and  Zethus,  she  hired 
them,  now  full-grown,  lusty  men,  to  catch  the  wildest  Carian 
bull  that  roamed  among  the  hills,  tie  Antiope  upon  his  back  and 
horns,  and  turn  him  loose.  They  caught  the  bull,  a  stiff-necked, 
raging  brute  of  fiercest  sort,  and  brought  him  in.  Antiope  was 
brought  there,  and  Dirce  and  the  dogs  came  out  to  see  the 
sport.  The  young  men  caught  their  mother  to  tie  her  to  the 
monster's  back.  She  made  no  noise,  but  whispered  something 
in  their  ears  that  changed  the  drift  of  things.     They  set  her 


ITALY.  337 

down,  and  pouncing  on  Dirce,  brought  her  to  the  bull.  They 
catch  him  by  his  neck  and  horns ;  the  rope  is  ready.  Thus  the 
group  stands,  —  Dirce,  men  and  bull,  upon  the  rocky  crags  up 
which  now  leap  the  fiery  dogs.  Antiope  stands  directing.  This 
is  the  part  the  marble  tells.  Just  at  the  nick  of  time,  when 
Dirce  would  have  been  bound  upon  the  bull's  big  horns,  the 
gods  interfered.  They  changed  the  wicked  queen  into  a  moun- 
tain spring,  which  boils  yet,  as  you  may  see,  not  far  from 
Thebes,  in  Greece,  any  time  you  feel  like  going  there  to  prove 
this  story  true.  Antiope  fared  better.  Her  sons,  enraged  at 
the  king's  cruel  treatment  of  their  mother,  then  took  the  throne 
themselves. 

But  there  are  many  marbles  here,  and  each  one  has  some 
sort  of  story,  that  you  may  find  in  books  that  tell  of  Jupiter  and 
Juno,  of  Mercury  and  Venus,  Mars  and  Psyche,  and  all  the 
rest,  —  marbles  of  gods  and  men  ;  marbles  in  vases,  rich  mosaic 
floors  ;  marbles  in  medallions,  columns,  altars,  and  bas-reliefs, 
—  a  gorgeous  gathering  of  many  thousand  pieces,  the  patient, 
precious  work  of  many  a  well-known  master  in  his  day. 

Perhaps  the  saddest  things  in  all  these  marble  halls  are  the 
anonymes.  You  know  of  Jupiter  and  Caesar ;  you  expect  to  meet 
Socrates  and  Brutus  and  Ceres ;  Venus  and  Flora  greet  you 
everywhere ;  but  these  stranger  people,  who  are  they  ?  This 
man,  you  do  not  know  him ;  he  can't  be  introduced,  because 
he  has  no  name.  This  woman,  nobly  draped,  with  queenly 
pose,  is  some  one  you  really  ought  to  know.  No  use  ;  no  card, 
no  name.  Both  had  names  once,  and  hoped  to  hand  them 
down  forever,  so  they  had  themselves  produced  in  masterly 
marbles.  They  died,  as  all  men  and  women  must ;  their 
generations  and  names  perished,  leaving  these  marble  effigies, 
nameless  and  lonely,  amid  a  noted  throng.  For  this  we  pity 
them.  You  know  the  others,  —  the  gods  and  goddesses,  the 
kings  and  generals,  the  philosophers  and  priests ;  but  these 
good-looking  nameless  folk,  you  know  them  not.  They  pose 
here  not  for  their  deeds  or  state  or  words  of  wisdom,  but  merely 
to  show  their  figure  or  their  clothes  ;  they  cannot  speak  to  you,  or 
tell  you  why  they  came  or  what  they  chance  to  know ;  and  so  you 
can't  help  but  pity  them  that  vanity  should  beguile  them  so  far  out 
of  place.  Surely  one  must  have  brain  and  thought  and  tongue 
to  figure  well  in  company  of  gods  and  men  of  mind  and  state. 


338  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

We  came  into  the  great  Pompeian  rooms.  For  many  years 
the  Government  of  Naples  or  of  Italy  has  been  exhuming 
Pompeii,  bringing  the  rich  harvest  of  curious  things,  and  things 
of  common  use  two  thousand  years  ago,  to  this  collection.  "We 
found  no  pens  or  type  or  printing  press,  but  many  a  plate  of 
bronze  or  brass  graven  with  deeds  and  contracts  ;  and  furniture 
for  household  use,  and  weights  and  measures,  and  farmers' 
tools,  and  those  of  the  professions  and  mechanical  trades. 
These  people  tilled  the  fields,  and  must  need  have  shovels, 
hoes,  rakes,  picks,  and  forks.  They  wrought  in  stone,  and  must 
use  drills  and  wedges,  hammers  and  various  dressing  tools. 
They  fashioned  wood,  so  they  must  saw  and  bore  and  plane, 
use  spikes  and  nails,  and  fastenings  for  openings.  They  wrought 
lead  and  copper  goods,  and  must  have  plumbers'  tools.  The 
list  is  as  endless  as  the  trades.  What  we  have  now  that  they 
had  not  are  mostly  modifications  of  the  implements  then  used. 
These  people  cooked,  and  so  had  pots  and  pans,  skewers  and 
knives  and  spoons,  dishes  for  cooking  various  sorts  of  food,  and 
table-ware  for  eating  ;  they  bought  and  sold,  so  used  their  steel- 
yards, weights  and  scales,  and  measures  for  grain  and  meal. 

We  found  a  long  glass  case  of  knives  for  cutting  human  flesh  ; 
of  forceps,  tweezers,  operating  tools  of  various  kinds,  even 
such  as  we  supposed  were  only  made  in  modern  times.  Then 
there  were  cupping  appliances,  and  pots  of  pills,  and  numerous 
preparations  fitted  more  or  less  to  human  aches  and  ills,  articles 
for  toilet  use,  cosmetics  to  color  the  face,  and  powders  to  give 
the  teeth  a  pearly  cast.  For  there  were  surgeons  then,  and 
doctors  too,  and  those  who  pulled  out  teeth,  and  put  the  halt 
and  lame  in  better  shape.  There  were  fashions  too ;  and 
ladies  crimped  and  curled  their  hair,  —  here  are  the  curling 
tongs.  They  painted,  powdered,  jewelled,  oiled  their  hair, — 
here  are  the  witnesses.  We  looked  for  spectacles  and  smoking 
pipes,  but  found  them  not ;  the  former  must  have  been  used  — 
at  least,  they  were  in  China  —  in  that  day;  but  tobacco  and 
cigars,  —  that  calamity  had  yet  been  spared  this  people. 

Hour  after  hour,  day  after  day,  if  you  have  time  to  spare, 
you  may  wander  in  these  rooms,  among  the  noble  marbles,  pic- 
tures, Pompeian  finds,  and  choice  keramic  wares ;  among 
bronzes,  medals,  coins,  and  wondrous  crystal  goods ;  no  end 
of  jewels,  bracelets,  armlets,  lovely  chains,  and  precious  rings 


ITAL  Y 


339 


and  pins  and  other  golden  things,  —  an  interesting  maze.  Below, 
you  go  from  hall  to  hall  to  see  Pompeian  pictures,  —  paintings, 
frescos,  fine  mosaic-work,  groups  and  quaint  domestic  scenes, 

—  stories  in  light  and  shade  of  classic  times  when  Neptune 
ruled  the  sea,  and  gods  came  down  to  earth  to  take  on  earthly 
forms  for  their  own  purposes.  Our  painters  of  the  last  two 
thousand  years  have  elaborated  their  art  in  many  respects,  and 
yet  must  rank  as  largely  copyists.  You  see  these  angels  frescoed 
on  these  walls,  creations  of  two  thousand  years  or  more  ago, 
and  then  compare  them  with  Raphael's  "  The  Hours,"  and  the 
similarity  startles  you  ;  you  almost  ask.  Did  Raphael  see  these 
same  sketches  of  these  wondrous  things  before  he  traced  his 
airy  forms,  "  The  Hours,"  that  grace  some  rarely  opened  room 
within  the  private  chambers  of  the  Vatican  ?  It  were  blasphemy 
almost  to  speak  aloud  of  such  a  possibility,  and  yet  it  may  be 
so.  You  may  not  think  the  Pompeian  twelve  the  better,  yet 
look  at  them  long  and  well  before  you  say  that  they  are  not. 
Raphael  had  little  need  to  borrow  thoughts,  perhaps,  yet  all  his 
forms  —  most  beauteous  forms  they  are,  despite  the  tooth  of 
time  and  unskilled  restoration  —  were  borrowed  from  some 
source.     His  Madonnas  were  living  women  of  his  day  and  home, 

—  brevetted  wives ;  his  holy  babes  and  Johns  were  real  babes 
and  boys ;  his  Josephs,  Peters,  Pauls,  and  Magdalenes,  all  were 
from  living  subjects  which  he  gathered  up.  Mayhap  he  saw  some 
sketches  of  these  angels  of  the  Pompeian  walls,  and  so  produced 
his  famous  "  Hours  "  that  now  so  grace  the  Vatican. 

We  quit  this  dust  of  ages,  this  paint  and  plaster,  this  corroding 
bronze,  to  take  fresh  air,  —  to  go  a-fishing.  There  is  no  place 
like  Naples  for  seeing  fish.  The  fruit  of  the  sea  is  everywhere 
abundant ;  but  the  great  glass  fish  tanks,  made  of  heavy  plate 
and  furnitured  with  rock  and  gravel,  and  watered  from  the  sea 
in  continuous  supply,  are  filled  with  curious  fish  and  crabs,  — 
with  swimming,  creeping,  crawling  life,  —  animals  rooted  to  rocks, 
with  corals  and  anemones  that  eat  and  breathe,  but  cannot  swim 
or  walk  or  ever  get  an  inch  away  from  home.  Here  you  sit  and 
watch  the  ill-made,  gangling  devil-crab;  sand-colored  fish  of 
curious  form  that  live  beneath  the  sand  and  come  above  only 
when  the  keepers  stir  them  up  to  give  them  food ;  here  you  see 
tlie  strange  electric  fish ;  great  ugly  eels  and  pretty  flying  fish ; 
the  tiny  trumpeters  ;  ray  fish  and  star  fish  that  look  like  cactus 


340  A    GIRDLE  ROUND   THE  EARTH. 

balls ;  and  farther  on,  that  fearful,  awe-inspiring  devil-fish,  the 
great  octopus  whose  frightful  arms  and  tough  involving  web  of 
skin  enwraps  its  prey  with  sickening  involutions,  —  the  most 
hideous  form  the  water  gives. 

This  grand  aquarium  of  Naples  is  not  a  show  place,  yet  it  is 
the  most  interesting  of  its  class  in  the  world.  It  is  a  school, 
built  by  the  governments  and  powers,  here  where  sea  life  is  most 
complete,  —  a  place  for  men  to  come  and  learn  of  things  that 
swim  the  waters  of  the  deep,  of  forms  half-animal,  half-vegetable, 
the  sponge  and  the  coral,  sea  anemones,  —  come  here  to  see 
and  study,  under  competent  professors,  what  they  could  not  see 
and  study  elsewhere. 


THE  BAY  OF  A'APLES :  P.ESTUM  AXD  POMPEII.    34 1 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES:   P^STUM  AND   POMPEII. 

On  the  Bay.  —  Capri  and  Sorrento.  —  A  Moonlight  Drive  to  Amalfi. — 
Dangers  of  the  Way  — Psestum.  —  Ruin  and  Desolation.  —  Grecian 
Temples.  —  Salerno.  —  On  to  Vesuvius.  —  Ascending  the  Volcano. — 
Pompeii.  —  Sights  and  Scenes  in  the  Dead  City. 

THERE  are  two  fine  drives  near  Naples  which  should  be 
taken  leisurely,  devoutly,  as  one  goes  upon  a  pilgrimage. 
You  go  by  ship  across  the  deep  clear  waters  of  the  bay,  dotted 
over  with  white-winged  fishing  smacks.  No  matter  which  way 
you  turn  your  head,  or  where  your  vision  strays,  the  scene  is 
beautiful,  suggesting  always  paradise.  The  crenellated  towers 
just  left  behind  ;  the  towering  heights  that  guard  the  town  be- 
neath ;  the  countless  villas  peeping  through  the  ever-present 
greenery,  flecking  the  olive  groves  and  broad-spread  vineyards 
with  a  gleam  of  white,  are  very  beautiful.  The  noble  islands 
springing  from  the  light-blue  placid  wave  —  in  distance  seeming 
turquoise  gems,  fruited  to  the  top  —  are  bestarred  with  villages 
that  nestle  in  among  the  hills  and  vines  in  sweet  contentment, 
wanting  naught  beyond.  The  great  round  cone  that  rises  over 
these,  and  smokes  his  morning  pipe,  seems  mild  and  harmless  as 
a  New  England  pasture  hill ;  but  he  needs  watching.  He  lets 
the  trusting  vines  creep  up  into  his  lap  and  trail  about  his  broad- 
spread  shoulders  ;  he  invites  Miss  Flora  to  his  house,  and  makes 
plump  Pomona  many  a  flattering  promise  ;  and  even  Ceres,  wise 
and  watchful  of  her  golden  grain,  has  this  calm  smoker  more 
than  once  deceived.  He  cheats  them  all,  gets  angry,  fierce, 
denies  his  promised  word,  shuts  out  the  sunshine,  rains  red-hot 
sand  upon  the  grain  and  vine  and  land,  —  a  fell  destroyer,  now 
so  meek  and  mild. 

You  sit  upon  the  quiet  deck  and  look  on  Ischia,  mourning 
for  her  many  sons  the  hungry  earth  has  swallowed  up ;  you  look 
to  lovely  Bai^e ;  to  Cum^e,  sleeping  by  the  huddling  hills  whose 
every  side  wears  festoons  now  of  blooming  grapes ;  while  right 


342  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

over  there  did  Dante  leave  the  upper  world,  he  and  his  poet 
friend,  to  explore  the  infernal  regions  and  bring  back  word  as  to 
the  management  in  hell.  His  account  is  well  worth  reading ; 
and  how  he  came  to  write  such  horrid  things  you  can  right  well 
appreciate  after  you  have  been  here  awhile.  No  place  on  earth 
is  so  near  to  heaven,  so  close  to  hell,  as  this.  Such  perfect 
peace,  such  pandemonium ;  such  sky  and  land  and  glorious 
water  tints,  and  eke  such  fiery  desolation,  —  fearful  contradictions, 
so  false,  and  yet  so  very  fair ;  the  overlapping  border-land  of  the 
eternal  bad  and  good. 

You  stop  at  famous  Capri  Cave  to  see  the  deep-blue  water 
there.  The  very  boats  in  which  you  sit,  your  tawny  boatmen 
paddling  round,  your  very  selves,  all  are  a  brilliant  blue.  They 
say  that  fairies  gather  here,  and  that  mermen  wed  their  mermaids 
underneath  this  azure  dome.  We  row  away  to  Capri  town,  and 
take  a  lunch  of  tender  steak  and  peas,  washed  down  by  a  little 
glass  or  two  of  famous  Capri  tea.  Then  up  among  the  vineyard 
walls,  up  steep-stepped  paths  among  the  grapes  and  lemons  and 
orange-trees,  up  past  the  fountain  streams,  and  Mary  shrines, 
and  shrines  with  frescoed  crucifix,  we  ride  and  snuff  the  moun- 
tain air.  In  Cairo,  the  donkey  boys  are  boys ;  up  here  they  are 
bouncing,  blooming  Capri  girls,  who  whip  the  mules  and  offer 
strings  of  corals,  coral  pins,  and  chains,  even  while  you  ride  aloft 
to  catch  a  further,  bluer  ocean  gleam.  In  olden  time  this  Capri 
place  was  famed  for  Roman  palaces.  But  these  are  gone,  — 
leaving  the  noble  hills  and  luscious  vine,  the  fruitful  harvest,  the 
precious  views  and  pale  thin  clouds,  the  tinted  waters  of  the  bay, 
the  entrancing  vistas  everywhere,  and  overhead  the  soft,  warm, 
tender  sky  that  makes  the  whole  so  perfect,  full,  and  round. 

This  is  the  first  of  two  fine  rides.  Could  you  but  see  this 
grand  inturned  curve  that  marks  the  water  line  a  dozen  miles 
'twixt  here  and  Castellamare,  and  the  beetling  mountain-tops  that 
overhang  this  bay,  then  you  could  understand  how  grand  a  ride 
this  giddy  roadway  gives ;  how  fair  it  is  at  times  amid  the  forest 
groves ;  how  reckless  here  and  there  in  leaping  gorges  deep  ; 
how  tame  and  tidy  in  among  the  vines  and  trellised  shrubs  and 
youthful  ilex  growth ;  how  boldly  round  the  high-browed  crags 
it  winds  its  dizzy  way,  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  surf  that  slowly 
beats  upon  the  worried  rocks  straight  down  beneath  your  landau 
wheels.     It  is  a  most  cheering  ride.'     The  triple  bays  glide  o'er 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES:  P^STUM  AND  POMPEII.    343 

the  ground  with  more  than  usual  speed,  and  ere  the  sun  has  set 
their  dozen  choking  shoes  are  beating  rapid  time  through  Castel- 
lamare  streets,  faced  towards  Salerno,  twelve  miles  across  to  the 
other  bay.  Through  village  after  village  on  we  go,  through  rusty 
old  Italian  country  towns,  with  knots  of  people  round  the  doors 
and  crowds  of  people  in  the  streets,  the  vespers  ringing  in  the 
towers,  the  fountains  plashing  in  the  squares,  the  toiling  carts, 
children  laughing  o'er  their  sports,  —  a  lively  picture  indeed. 

We  reach  the  other  bay  at  ten.  The  moon  is  full  and  out  of 
bed.  Twelve  miles  more  before  we  sleep.  Here  now  begins 
the  second  drive,  the  better  of  the  two,  and  most  daring  of  the 
road-makers'  skill  you  '11  find  in  any  land.  Twelve  miles  of 
precipitous  mountain  side  here  faces  to  the  south,  along  which 
shadows  only  safely  cling.  This  face  is  slashed  with  gulches, 
cut  into  the  mountain  at  various  points,  providing  now  and  then 
a  small  snug  harbor,  once  the  hiding-place  of  pirates,  now  the 
prosy  homes  of  toiling  fishermen.  Along  this  stony  steep  — 
sometimes  close  to  the  water's  edge,  again  traihng  on  the  stony 
mountain  breast  some  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  deep  blue 
sea,  —  this  dizzy  road  is  cut.  It  runs  on  solid  mountain  bed; 
it  runs  on  arches  built  up  and  up  from  the  blue  water's  edge ; 
it  runs  on  buttressed  walls  and  channels  hewn  within  the  over- 
hanging rock,  —  trailing  on  its  dangerous  way,  yet  forming  a  per- 
fect road,  walled  in  with  strong  stone  parapets,  among  no  end 
of  terrace  land  where  many  a  white  stone  villa  clings,  sometimes 
mid  fruit  and  trellised  vines,  sometimes  crossing  viaducts,  back 
and  forth  along  the  deep-set  gulch,  winding  in  and  out,  —  a 
most  enchanting  full-moon  ride  above  Salerno  Gulf. 

Did  we  enjoy  it?  Rather!  The  hour  was  somewhat  late, 
the  ride  we  had  taken  not  short ;  but  such  a  road  hung  up 
among  the  stars  so  far  above  the  seas  were  worth  whole  days 
of  toil  to  find.  The  moonlight  ride  among  the  stars,  —  we  saw 
them  glinting  in  the  sea,  —  the  songs  and  tales  of  other  lands, 
the  hope  the  road  would  last  all  night,  the  castled  rocks  up  and 
down,  the  caves  and  grottos  of  the  elves,  the  flashing  cascade,  the 
azure  sea,  the  moonbeams  scattered  over  all,  —  you  must  come 
yourself  to  see  this  ride  to  Amalfi,  by  Salerno  sea.  Then  will 
you  believe  its  beauty  cannot  be  described,  only  hinted  at. 

Sleeping  an  hour  or  two  on  well-made  beds  of  the  old  monas- 
tic hostelry,  at  early  daylight  we  went  to  mass  in  the  venerable 


344  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

St.  Andrew's  church,  most  rich  in  marbles,  carvings,  and 
noble  lapis  work,  pictured  saints,  and  mosaics,  which  the  travel- 
ler hardly  expects  in  such  a  walled-in,  stony  place,  hung  up 
above  the  sea.  Here  sleeps  a  town  to  the  world  almost  unknown, 
whose  natural  beauties  out-rank  all  the  rest,  —  a  city  making 
macaroni,  raising  and  shipping  fruits  and  olive-oils,  catching 
fish,  —  busy  as  a  hive  of  bees  ;  hotels  most  neat  and  clean  and 
fair  ;  choice  meats  and  fish  and  wines  and  fruits,  —  a  real  summer 
paradise  of  upturned  green  against  the  sea ;  a  spot  where  winter 
dare  not  come  ;  a  place  of  rest,  content,  and  ease. 

But  we  are  off;  the  horses  stand  before  the  door;  a  lunch  is 
put  up  for  later  use  ;  the  good-byes  are  said  to  landlord,  butler, 
chambermaid ;  crack  goes  the  whip,  the  bells  jingle,  and  away 
we  go  again,  back  over  the  same  twelve  miles  of  lofty  mountain 
•  road  to  take  the  cars  for  Psestum.  The  scene  on  this  magic 
road  is  grand  by  day,  but  not  so  full  of  weird  thought  as  when 
we  saw  it  by  the  moon.  Daylight  shows  too  much.  It  reveals 
things  you  would  not  see ;  puts  questions  better  left  unasked  ; 
tells  faults  that  no  one  cares  to  know.  Better  the  silver  moon- 
light that  makes  grand  castles  out  of  lofty  rocks,  and  pictures 
villas  where  the  cascades  fall.  Better  the  moonlight  that  con- 
dones Dame  Nature's  faults  and  gives  imagination  wings. 

But  Paestum  !  Two  dozen  centuries  ago,  when  Greece  pro- 
duced, as  Britain  does  and  has  for  many  years,  more  men  and 
women  than  can  stay  at  home,  she  sent  out  colonies.  Take  up 
your  map  and  look  along  these  shores,  and  count  the  many 
towns  these  people  settled  long  ago,  years  before  Rome  had  a 
Caesar.  Such  a  place  was  Pcestum,  well  founded  by  the  sea, 
near  by  the  river  Silarus,  —  a  rich  and  lovely  plain.  Who  lives 
there  now?  No  one,  —  that  is,  only  a  family  or  two;  but  re- 
cently the  iron  road  has  come  that  way,  and  brought  some 
signs  of  returning  life.  What  is  there  to  make  folks  come? 
Some  grand  old  walls  and  temples.  Some  years  ago,  longer 
ago  than  any  of  your  friends  have  lived,  there  dwelt  at  Paestum 
two  thousand  score  of  souls.  They  had  stout  city  walls  and 
stone-paved  streets,  had  palaces  and  homes  and  shrines  and 
temples  fair,  —  lived  in  state  and  wealth  and  luxury.  What  now 
is  left  ?  A  gate  or  two,  three  miles  or  so  of  ruined  walls,  and 
well-preserved  ruins  of  three  noble  temples.  People  come  here 
chiefiy  to  see  these  latter. 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES:  P^STUM  AND  POMPEII.    345 

In  this  proud  city,  in  its  younger  days,  —  hundreds  of  years 
before  our  era's  dawn,  —  these  people  built  fair  temples  to  their 
guardian  gods,  —  to  Neptune,  in  whose  care  the  city  was ;  to 
Ceres,  who  gave  the  people  grain  for  bread  ;  to  other  gods, 
whose  names  no  one  can  tell.  They  also  built  rich  palaces, 
and  many  streets  lined  thick  with  dwellings,  shops,  and  theatres. 
But  all  are  gone ;  gone  the  houses  where  the  people  lived  and 
wrought  and  amused  themselves ;  left  only  are  the  temples. 
The  abodes  of  men  were  of  little  value  in  the  Grecian  eye  ; 
places  to  buy  and  sell  were  nothing  in  their  sight ;  their  meas- 
ure of  greatness  was  the  place  of  prayer  and  sacrifice,  —  the 
earthly  abode  of  their  protecting  gods.  So  now  are  the  dwell- 
ings, theatres,  and  storehouses  gone ;  you  '11  look  in  vain  for 
ship  or  dock  or  wharf;  you  came  to  see  this  once  grand  city 
by  the  sea  that  had  so  many  people,  and  counted  untold  wealth, 
and  you  find  nothing  but  ruined  temples,  walls  and  grass  and 
weeds  and  creeping  things. 

What  made  this  city  desolate  ?  Its  pagan  ways  ?  No.  An 
enemy  ?  Yes.  Not  with  axe  and  brand  ;  but  in  the  later  times 
when  she  had  lived  and  thrived  eight  hundred  years,  had  been 
the  favored  home  of  gods  and  kings,  had  withstood  wars,  and 
kept  the  faith  first  with  Greece  and  then  with  conquering  Rome, 
there  came  an  enemy  she  could  not  beat  away.  The  rank 
miasmatic  vapor  that  came  so  near  to  conquering  Rome,  —  that 
stealthy  fatal  poison  of  the  blood  that  lurks  about  your  feet  and 
beds  soon  as  the  watchful  sun  goes  down,  —  this  fever-bringing 
scourge  completely  conquered  Pcestum,  and  drove  the  people 
forth  to  live  on  higher  ground,  scattering  them  far  and  wide. 
For  many  hundred  years  no  one  has  lived  at  Paestum.  No 
ships  went  thence  to  sea,  the  houses  rotted,  the  streets  grew  up 
to  weeds  and  grass ;  and  hundreds  of  years  ago  the  plough  tore 
up  the  city  site,  and  farmers  tilled  the  market-place  and  all  the 
grounds,  save  where  the  temples  stood,  —  having  their  homes 
on  higher  ground,  working  in  daytime  on  the  deadly  plains  of 
Paestum. 

The  temples  are  yet  grand  :  that  of  Neptune  has  its  every 
column,  architrave,  and  frieze  and  pediment ;  that  of  Ceres  is 
almost  as  good ;  the  other  one  is  of  a  later,  poorer  make,  and 
worst  preserved  of  all.  The  Neptune  temple  has  fine  tall  fluted 
Doric  columns,  well  preserved,  not  counting  those  within  the 


346  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

outer  rows  that  range  around  the  inner  holy  place.  The  other 
temple  is  about  the  same  in  size,  but  that  of  Ceres  little  more 
than  half  as  large.  The  pavements  yet  are  sound,  worn  rough 
by  rain  and  time ;  the  massive  stone-work  has  lost  its  stucco, 
paint,  and  marble  work,  but  has  a  mellow  yellow  brown  that 
well  befits  its  age  and  state.  The  roofs  of  wood  long  since  fell 
in,  and  rot  there  on  the  plain.  Some  hours  we  loiter  round 
these  piles,  and  try  to  reinvest  the  scene  with  people,  trade, 
and  busy  life  ;  with  crowds  of  ardent  worshippers  thronging  the 
forum,  courts,  and  streets,  bringing  in  their  temple  tithes,  be- 
seeching Ceres  for  good  crops,  making  processions  to  the  fields 
and  folds,  led  by  priest  and  prayer  and  song,  bringing  to  tem- 
ple shrine  the  best  of  all  their  gains,  grateful  to  powers  of 
heaven  and  earth  and  sea  for  responding  to  praise,  sacrifice, 
and  prayer. 

Next  to  the  Athenian  temples  these  are  the  best  of  all  the 
Grecian  temples  left.  The  grand  old  fane  at  Ephesus,  the  seventh 
wonder  of  the  world,  is  now  quite  out  of  sight ;  the  Olympic  temple 
long  since  passed  away  ;  Corinthian  piles  and  Theban  fanes,  and 
those  that  stood  at  Delphi,  Samos,  and  on  the  Eleusian  shores, 
are  wiped  from  off  the  earth  ;  these  only  remain  to  tell  the 
wondrous  temple  tale  of  mingled  gods  and  men,  —  of  the  time 
when  heaven  and  earth  went  hand-in- hand  working  for  the 
good  of  men. 

But  why  are  Pa^stum  temples  left?  Why  not  also  those  of 
Ephesus,  Olympia,  Corinth?  The  answer  you  may  find  in 
Christian  churches,  palaces,  and  museums.  The  stones  of 
many  of  these  temples,  shrines,  and  porticos  were  the  rarest 
of  marbles.  The  Christian  had  the  pagan  for  a  heritage,  so 
fitly  despoiled  him  of  his  temple  treasures,  —  marbles  and 
bronze,  porphyry  and  rich  waved  alabasters.  Great  columns 
and  small  were  all  pulled  down  and  borne  away ;  pilasters,  capi- 
tals, mosaics,  and  carven  stone  of  every  kind ;  the  sacred 
altars,  tripods,  incense  stands,  great  vases,  walls,  and  every  sort 
of  fine  and  fretted  stone,  —  all  these  they  robbed  the  heathen  tem- 
ples of  to  build  their  own  withal.  Those  at  Athens,  Hera  of 
Samos,  Artemis  at  Ephesus,  Apollo  at  Delphi,  Zeus  of  Olympia, 
were  made  of  precious  marbles,  and  so  were  mainly  moved 
away ;  but  those  at  Paestum  were  made  of  common  travertine, 
a  cheap  and  coarse-grained  stone  not  worth  its  cost  of  time  and 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES:  PAlSTUM  AND  POMPEII.    347 

freight.  And  so  they  stand  to-day ;  and  so  those  stand  at 
Girgenti,  Syracuse,  and  Baalbec.  Better  for  the  architectural 
history  of  the  land  of  Greece  and  Asia  Minor  coast  had  all  the 
temples  there  been  built  of  travertine.  The  precious  marbles, 
carvings,  statues,  noble  bas-reliefs  were  moved  away  to  garnish 
Christian  churches,  furnish  museums  and  palace  courts,  full 
many  a  score  of  years  ago.  At  old  St.  Andrew's  in  Amalfi  you 
may  see  some  rare  marble  carvings  —  high  relief  and  rich 
mosaic-work  for  altar  ornament  —  that  were  stripped  from  off 
these  P^estum  temple  walls  and  altar  shrines  many  centuries 
since.  At  Naples,  Rome,  and  other  museums,  they  point  with 
pride  at  rare  specimens  of  thorough  Greek  art  obtained  of  old 
at  Pfestum. 

For  quite  a  thousand  years  these  fanes  have  been  deserted, 
walls  unused,  and  gates  unclosed,  and  still  these  noble  columns 
stand  erect  and  hold  their  watch.  The  deities  to  which  they 
rose  have  lost  their  places  among  tlie  gods  that  men  now  kneel 
before  and  worship  ;  the  tombs  along  the  roadside  leading  to 
the  gate  have  all  been  violated,  as  yours  will  likely  be  in  course 
of  time,  to  plunder  finger  bones  of  rings,  and  poke  among  the 
human  ashes  for  bits  of  coin  or  jewelry.  A  cursed  practice  this  ! 
Why  not  let  dead  nien  sleep  ?  We  send  a  man  to  prison  for 
violating  modern  graves ;  we  make  the  plundering  of  older 
ones  a  reputable  business  !  Are  tombs  less  sacred  when  one's 
kith  are  dead  ?  It  would  seem  so.  And  so  in  other  things,  — 
customs  that  we  say  God  smiled  upon  and  blessed  in  Jewish 
times,  He  now  abhors.  God,  then,  has  changed  ?  Not  so.  God 
changes  not ;  men  do,  and  to  excuse  themselves  try  to  make 
believe  that  Heaven  has  made  new  laws. 

The  train  arrived  almost  too  soon.  We  left  sweet  Ceres  to 
herself;  left  the  grizzled  Neptune  to  his  endless  sleep;  silent 
we  came  along  the  street  of  tombs,  where  husbands,  wives, 
dear  ones  of  home,  and  friends,  amid  deep  sobs  were  laid  away 
to  rest ;  we  passed  the  time-worn  carvings,  the  crumbling 
temple  wall,  the  chisel  prints  in  vine  and  chain  and  fruit ;  the 
sculptor's  skill  in  dolphin,  ship,  and  trident ;  passed  underneath 
the  yet  unbroken  arch  above  the  long-demolished  gate  ;  turned 
back  and  looked  again  on  these  grand  relics  of  a  grand  old  race, 
and  called  the  day's  work  done. 

Salerno  is  the  next  important  town  at  which  to  stop.     It  is 


348  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  old  Roman  Salernum,  a  pleasant  site  above  the  sea,  —  the 
town  to  which  the  Arabs  came  a  thousand  years  or  so  ago,  and 
set  up  there  the  earliest  school  of  medicine  in  Europe,  which 
grew  to  be  the  first  upon  the  Continent.  Esculapius  was  late 
in  getting  out  into  the  Western  world,  but  chose  a  most  delight- 
ful port  and  seat.  Just  where  the  college  stood  no  one  we  asked 
could  tell,  so  we  cut  short  our  pilgrimage  and  came  across  to 
Naples  Bay  early  in  the  evening.  Vesuvius  was  puffing  at  his 
pipe  and  shooting  forth  great  glares  of  light;  bright  lava  streams 
came  trickling  down  the  ashen  cone, — rivers  of  fire  in  the 
night,  —  a  fascinating  spectacle  ;  a  threat  of  what  might  happen 
at  almost  any  time. 

It  is  one  of  the  choice  places  of  Europe,  this  Neapolis, 
this  new  city  of  the  Greeks,  —  the  vast  city  stuck  upon  the 
steep  side-hill,  on  the  inner  curve  of  the  horseshoe  ;  this  city 
whose  long  front  street,  from  Castellamare  clear  round  to  Poz- 
zuoli,  measures  some  five-and-twenty  miles.  But  after  all,  and 
after  the  Museum  and  Martino  and  Posilippo,  you  don't  come 
here  to  stay,  but  come  to  get  away,  —  away  to  Vesuvius,  where 
the  molten  flood  runs  down  the  upheaved  cone  and  pales  the 
cheek  of  vinters  and  of  villagers  ;  away  to  Capri,  where  eternal 
blue  and  ceaseless  summer  wait  you,  where  olives  never  shed 
their  leaves,  and  orange -blooms  await  the  banns  of  every  month, 
and  roses,  beauty,  and  rich  ripening  fruit  abound  perennial; 
away  to  fair  Sorrento,  seaside  gem  and  perfect  resting-place, 
where  you  may  sit  and  watch  the  azure  wave  and  pluck  luscious 
fruit  from  bending  bough  and  vine,  gaze  forth  upon  the  blazing 
mount  and  noisy  streets  across  the  narrow  gulf,  and  hold  your- 
self in  constant  rest  and  peace ;  away  to  Cumse,  where  Aver- 
nus's  prattling  tide  talks  low  to  you  of  deep-cut  caves  and  sibyls 
flattering  armored  kings  with  thrilling  hopes  of  victory,  or  telling 
youth  of  warmest  hopes  to  be  fulfilled  ;  away  to  Baise's  azure 
bay,  boat-bridged  in  Csesar's  time,  and  fringed  with  marble 
palaces  and  shrines,  where  ships  of  war  and  warriors  of  the  sea 
came  back  to  rest  and  live  their  baneful  lives  of  untold  luxury 
and  ease. 

All  this  and  more  than  this,  —  visits  to  desolate  Pompeii, 
whose  well-paved  streets  hear  no  familiar  footsteps  ;  whose 
shops  and  temples,  household  walls  and  household  shrines,  have 
long  been  listening  for  their  lords  to  come  ;  whose  very  stepping- 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES :  P^STUM  AND  POMPEII.    349 

stones  and  rutted  streets  tell  you  of  loneliness,  of  weary  waiting 
for  the  ones  that  fled  on  that  dark  ashen  day  when  desolation 
came  so  fast  and  black  and  deep.  You  come  to  visit  old  Pute- 
oli,  where  Saint  Paul  landed  on  his  way  to  Rome,  and  where 
his  footprint  yet  is  seen  upon  the  hard-faced,  never-before-re- 
lenting rock ;  to  see  the  road  this  Tarsan  trod  up  past  the  place 
for  fighting  beasts,  up  past  the  house  of  Seneca,  of  Brutus,  and 
of  Cicero  ;  up  past  the  verge  of  that  great  volcanic  crash,  whose 
pulse  has  not  yet  ceased  to  throb  and  threaten ;  you  come, 
indeed,  if  you  are  wise  and  have  the  time,  to  ride  upon  the 
cornice  mountain  road,  that  burrows  into  beetling  rocks  and 
overhangs  the  deep  blue  sea,  and  leaping  frightful  chasms,  goes 
plunging  down  into  dark  green  olive  groves  and  chestnut  boughs 
and  blooms  that  fill  the  air  with  perfume ;  you  come  to  ride 
across  the  hill  to  old  Salerno,  to  thread  the  dizzy  carriage-way 
that  overlooks  and  overhangs  the  sea  at  many  dangerous,  dizzy 
feet  above  its  booming  wave ;  to  Amalfi,  convent  place  with 
gorgeous  church  and  old-time  palaces,  with  temple,  tower,  and 
countless  terraces  yet  chnging  to  the  precipice  ;  with  groves 
of  fruits  and  trellised  vine  and  low-trained  lemon-trees,  roses 
and  banks  of  buds  and  blooms  so  shadowed  in  the  sea ;  you 
come  with  slow  and  measured  tread,  with  hat  in  hand  and  rev- 
erent tread,  to  visit  the  roofless  shrines  whose  fluted  columns 
stand  in  solemn  time-stained  ranks  about  the  holy  place  where 
once  great  Neptune,  bounteous  Ceres,  ruling  Jove,  were  wont 
to  stand. 

To  such  a  country  do  you  come,  —  land  of  volcanic  throes  ; 
land  of  the  Caesars ;  the  lounging-place  of  men  who  ruled  the 
Roman  world ;  rioting  ground  of  Roman  men  and  Roman 
women  who  wrought  the  downfall  of  their  land.  Land  of  milk 
and  honey  fair ;  land  of  fame  and  fortune  rare ;  cradle-land  of 
loveliest  seas  and  groves  and  skies  that  eye  of  man  e'er  rested 
on,  —  this  is  the  land  you  visit  when  on  leaving  miasmatic 
Rome  you  come  to  Naples  leaning  from  her  lofty  balcony,  look- 
ing out  across  the  sea. 

Our  time  was  rather  short,  for  in  five  or  six  days,  at  most,  we 
must  be  back  in  Rome  to  get  a  promised  blessing  at  the  Vatican, 
—  must  do  two  days'  work  in  one.  Breakfast  at  seven;  three 
harnessed  horses  at  the  door,  and  off  the  carriage  rolled  towards 
the  smoke  that  cKmbs  the  clear  blue  air  above  the  ashy  cone  of 


350  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

old  Vesuvius.  The  first  clear  day  in  twenty.  You  may  come 
to  Naples  twenty  times  and  never  see  the  tip-top  cone.  For 
weeks  before  this  day,  men  had  come  here  and  waited  days  and 
days  without  seeing  it.  As  we  rode  in  from  Rome  the  day 
before,  the  cone  was  covered  with  clouds,  —  the  cone  and  more 
than  half  the  mount,  —  which  made  our  chances  very  poor. 

Never  mind.  The  road  is  good  right  up  along  the  mountain 
side,  and  every  inch  is  tilled  with  vines  and  fruits  and  roots,  and 
every  house  has  lots  of  little  folks,  and  every  inch  the  danger 
grows.  What  makes  these  people  stay  so  near  this  awful  spot? 
What  makes  you  go  there  ?  You  take  the  chance.  So  do  they. 
This  is  the  loveliest  spot  on  earth  to  them,  —  the  richest  place 
for  growing  vines  and  making  wines  and  raising  fruit  and  garden 
stuff  for  Naples  market.  Fruitful  place  for  children  ;  how  they 
thrive  in  this  pure  mountain  air  up  here  among  the  fruit  and 
milk  of  goats  !  Why  not  live  here  and  take  the  chance  ?  Some- 
times a  rain  of  ashen  dust  besmirches  their  farms ;  sometimes  an 
avalanche  of  fiery  flood  comes  pouring  down  the  hill.  It  blasts 
some  homes  with  its  great  black  viscid  mass,  contorted,  serpent- 
ine, and  buries  deep  the  house  and  home  that  years  of  toil  have 
made.  Mayhap  some  lives  are  lost ;  so  are  they  on  the  sea ; 
so  are  they  by  the  cyclone  blast  ten  thousand  miles  from  Vul- 
can's land.  There  may  be  danger  here,  but  the  peasant  says 
God  holds  the  keys  of  life  and  death  :  che  sara  sara. 

Ten  miles  on  your  way,  four  miles  from  the  top,  —  such  blis- 
tered desolation  !  Leaf  and  shrub  are  left  behind,  ruin  riots 
right  and  left.  The  road  winds  through  great  seas  and  waves 
of  arid  drift,  great  stiffened  clots  of  foul  volcanic  bile  vomited 
forth  to  blast  the  field  and  fruit,  —  a  hopeless  vision  of  the  deso- 
late. For  all  these  miles  no  daring  blade  of  grass  appears ;  no 
hope  for  such.  The  horses'  bells  are  hushed  at  the  station 
house,  where  the  train  stands  ready  to  lift  you  to  the  summit  — 
a  single  car  upon  a  single  rail,  drawn  by  a  single  rope  of  steel, 
propelled  by  electricity.  The  grade  of  this  new  road  is  about  as 
steep  as  the  dirt  grade  of  an  ordinary  sandy  railroad  filling, — 
steep  enough  for  comfort.  The  ride  costs,  with  use  of  guide 
and  two  miles  of  carriage  road  below,  about  five  dollars.  I 
walked  the  distance  once  in  ante-railroad  times,  for  fifty  cents ; 
but  it  was  a  losing  affair  that  I  never  quote  with  satisfaction. 

We  walked  the  crater's  roof,  and  heard  with  fear  the  awful 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES:  r.ESTUM  AND  POMPEII.    35 1 

throes  within  the  fearful  maw  beneath  our  feet,  and  wished  we 
were  at  home.  We  saw,  with  apprehensive  quakes,  great  clots 
of  viscid  stuff  lately  vomited  from  the  sulphurous  throat,  and 
tons  of  lava  stone,  yet  piping  hot,  playfully  shot  into  the  upper 
air  and  dropping  close  by  our  brimstone-seething  path,  remind- 
ing us  of  the  hereafter  not  so  far  away  where  overcoats  are 
rated  rather  cheap. 

Reaching  the  fearful  new-made  trembling  cone,  the  waiting 
guides  stood  ready  to  pull  us  farther  up,  and  amid  the  piercing 
fumes  of  heated  sulphur,  outstretched  upon  the  shaky  brink, 
show  us  the  very  mouth  of  this  unmitigated  hell.  But  the  doc- 
tor said  he  'd  had  enough ;  the  bishop  said  amen ;  the  other 
man  said  basia  to  the  guide.  Then  all  turned  back,  crept  down 
the  lava  rafters,  over  the  crackling  shingles  of  the  sulphurous 
roof,  toward  firmer  land.  And  as  we  walked  along,  striding  and 
straddling  over  lava  rifts  and  sulphur-fuming  cracks,  our  boot 
soles  heated  up  to  an  odorous  point,  a  wicked  wretch  remarked 
that  all  below  his  feet  was  fire  and  flame  and  sheol ;  that  it  was 
frail  and  feeble  and  liable  to  break  in,  the  whole  cone  go  down 
with  a  crash,  as  it  had  done  at  other  places  and  times,  and  send 
us  all  to  sulphurdom.  A  man  or  two  who  heard  the  mean 
remark  walked  faster.  They  passed  the  wretch  who  talked, 
and  even  overtook  and  passed  the  lively  guide.  The  villain 
hurried  not,  but  lingered  back  and  smiled.     He  even  laughed. 

Down  the  track  and  down  the  road ;  down  past  the  desolation 
that  you  can't  forget ;  down  past  the  now  cold  lava  streams,  and 
past  the  gardens,  vineyards,  homes  of  parents,  clustered  chil- 
dren ;  down  to  the  sea  again,  and  off  to  old  Pompeii.  You 
don't  want  a  description.  Imagine  a  city  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand people ;  streets  well  paved  with  solid  stone ;  temples, 
theatres,  court-house,  baths,  and  bakeries,  and  all  these  and  all 
the  dwellings  made  of  brick,  one  or  two  stories  high  ;  then  bury 
it  in  ashes  fifteen  yards  deep  in  fifteen  hours,  the  red-hot 
ashes  burning  off  the  wooden  roofs ;  most  of  the  people  fled  ; 
then  let  those  ashes  lie  there  seventeen  hundred  years,  used 
as  farms  and  fields  and  pasture  lands ;  then  go  and  dig  that 
city  out  !  Fancy  what  you  'd  find  ;  what  knives  and  forks  and 
crockery  ware  and  stones  and  pots  and  hardware  stocks  and 
doctors'  kits,  and  lots  of  stuff  within  lone  walls  with  roofs  burned 
off — and  that  would  be  like  Pompeii. 


352  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Of  course  the  finders  would  wonder  what  sort  of  pagan  mum- 
mery they  used  to  have  in  the  cathedral  walls  or  in  tlie  Baptist 
temple  farther  down ;  of  course  they  might  ask  what  kind  of 
plays  were  put  upon  the  opera  stage,  and  wonder  how  the  judges 
ruled  on  legal  points  within  the  exhumed  court-house.  That 's 
about  the  way  we  wondered  at  Pompeii,  and  the  other  case 
would  be  the  same.  We  wander  in  her  well-paved  streets,  the 
pavements  rutted  by  the  rolling  wheels ;  we  poke  about  the 
houses  of  the  rich,  look  through  their  parlors  and  their  sleeping- 
rooms,  look  closely  at  the  paintings  on  the  wall,  and  criticise 
their  stucco-work  and  plumbing.  We  go  about  among  the  baths 
and  sit  on  marbles  where  the  men  went  in  to  bathe  and  where 
bathing  women  sat ;  we  count  the  niches  where  they  threw 
their  clothes,  stand  by  the  marble  wine-shop  counter  where  they 
got  their  drink  of  wine  dipped  up  from  cool  stone  tanks ;  re- 
mark upon  the  family  altars  set  up  in  these  olden  homes;  peer 
into  bakers'  ovens  where  hard  bread  was  found,  baked  there  and 
staled  for  seventeen  hundred  years.  We  laugh  in  places  where 
they  said  their  prayers,  and  steal  bits  of  stone  from  Jove's  fair 
fane  ;  seek  out  their  tombs,  their  lounging  seats,  the  inner  homes 
of  rich  and  poor,  —  yet  wondering  how  they  got  along  so  very 
many  years  ago  without  a  type  or  printing  press,  without  clothes- 
wringers  or  kerosene,  without  Catholic  church  or  Methodist, 
without  communion  or  baptism  ;  wondering  how  they  got  along 
through  such  a  weary,  wanting  life,  and  where  they  went  to  when 
they  died  ! 


RAMBLIXCS  IN  ROME.  353 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

RAMBLINGS    IN    ROME. 

Old  Triumphal  Arches.  —  The  Palatine  and  Capitoline  Hills.  —  The 
Pantheon.  —  Rome  Not  Seen  in  a  Day.  —  The  Vatican.  —  The  Forum 
and  its  Memories.  —  Rome  in  Early  June.  —  Healthfulness  of  the  City. 
—  Courtesy  and  Generosity  of  the  Italians.  —  Treasures  from  the 
Hand  of  Raphael.  —  A  Marvel  in  Mosaic. 

RAMBLING  in  Rome  again.  Titus's  Arch  is  really  worth 
your  while.  Though  it  is  the  smallest  and  ugliest,  per- 
haps, of  any  here,  it  is  by  far  the  most  interesting.  The  arch 
of  Severus  is  a  much  more  imposing  one,  but  it  curdles  your 
blood.  This  Caesar  loved  his  two  sons,  Caracalla  and  Geta,  who 
went  with  him  to  war  and  returned  with  honor.  Both  their 
names  he  put  with  his,  in  noble  mention,  on  this  arch.  The 
father,  Severus,  died  ;  Geta  was  murdered  by  his  brother's  hand, 
his  name  erased  from  the  dedication  tablet,  and  the  space  filled 
up  with  commendation  of  the  cursed  fratricide. 

The  arch  of  Constantine  beyond  is,  in  the  distance,  largest 
and  most  imposing  of  them  all ;  but  don't  go  too  near  to  read 
its  truthful  tale,  lest  you  come  to  despise  it  and  to  hate  the  man 
who  built  it  and  whose  name  it  bears.  This  Constantine,  hav- 
ing no  great  deeds  of  valor  to  record,  adopted  those  of  others. 
Look  at  those  glorious  marble  pictures  up  there  upon  its  sides 
—  grand  bas-reliefs  of  Dacian  wars,  of  conquests  won  and 
Rome  made  strong.  Who  fought  these  battles,  gained  these 
victories,  brought  home  these  spoils  and  tributes?  Not  Con- 
stantine. These  massive  marble  pictures  and  these  lovely  fluted 
columns  once  graced  great  Trajan's  Arch.  Constantine  stripped 
them  off  to  garnish  his,  that  coming  men  might  count  brave 
Trajan's  work  his  own.  Imperial  plagiarism,  —  a  trick  so  mean 
that  you  detest  the  very  arch  that  hands  you  down  the  memory 
of  the  thief  and  theft. 

Smallest,  yet  best  of  all,  is  this  Vespasian-Titus's  Arch,  given 
him  for  his  many  brave  deeds  at  Jerusalem,  where  he  took  his 

23 


354  ^    GIRDLE  ROL'XD    THE  EARTH. 

imperial  father's  place  and  gained  a  great  victory.  But  chief 
in  interest  are  the  sculptures  inside  the  arch,  —  the  seven- 
branched  candlestick  and  the  sacred  vessels  of  the  Jewish  temple, 
the  fiery  horses  of  the  triumphal  car,  and  crowds  and  pris- 
oners,—  the  only  marble  link  between  the  days  of  Solomon  and 
ours.  Much  bruised  and  battered  by  all  these  eighteen  hundred 
years  of  buffeting,  it  still  remains  a  wondrous  piece  of  marble. 
This  arch  and  the  Pantheon  are  the  two  most  suggestive  spots 
in  Rome.  If  you  like,  we  will  skip  the  Palatine  and  Capitoline 
hill  and  visit  them.  The  Palatine  is  a  mazy  mass  of  substruc- 
tura:  arches,  —  brick  and  mortar,  pile  on  pile,  —  supporting  plat- 
form gardens,  partly  clad  with  shrubbery  and  tall  cypress-trees, 
and  interspersed  with  benches,  walks,  and  nooks,  and  timeworn 
statuary.  Ruin,  ruin,  ruin,  —  not  a  word  of  consolation  any- 
where save  where  the  roses  grow,  save  where  the  fountains  yet 
play  and  bright  cascades  come  leaping  down  a  broad  and  mossy 
niche,  laughing  at  empires,  thrones,  and  dynasties,  telling  their 
tale  of  men  that  come  and  men  that  go,  and  their  utter 
contempt  for  each  and  all. 

The  Capitoline  is  different,  —  a  lot  of  stone  and  stucco  work 
put  up  in  Michael  Angelo's  time  and  by  his  plans  ;  buildings, 
not  where  senators  and  Caesars  met  and  uttered  words  that 
influenced  the  world,  but  only  aldermen  whose  influence  stayed 
within  their  wards  ;  the  city  hall  and  museums  of  rare  old-time 
marbles,  a  poor  lot  of  pictures,  and  nothing  more.  Outside, 
Aurelian's  horse  still  paws  the  ground  and  proudly  bears  his 
noble  master ;  and  here  this  patient  man  has  sat  for  many  a 
hundred  weary  years,  watching  destruction  of  his  home  and  hope, 
watching  the  rolling  of  Dame  Fortune's  wheel  till  time  should 
see  Rome  all  powerful  again.  Close  by  him  are  Leda's  twins, 
standing  beside  their  fiery  steeds  looking  towards  the  Quirinal. 
Descend  the  steps.  Close  by  arose  the  rock  of  Tarpeia,  down 
which  they  hurled  their  prisoners  to  death ;  and  here  is  where 
the  bloody  head  was  found  that  gave  the  Capitoline  its  name  ; 
and  here  the  warning  geese  came  squawking  over  and  woke  the 
guards,  and  so  saved  Rome  ;  here  stood  the  temple  Moneta, 
where  the  first  Roman  coins  were  struck.  So  "  money  "  comes 
from  "Moneta,"  and  Moneta  temple  from  the  admonda,  or 
admonition,  that  the  gray  geese  gave  that  saved  Rome. 

You  will  like  the  Pantheon.     Of  all  the  buildings  here,  none 


RAMBLIXGS  IX  ROME.  355 

seems  to  me  so  full  of  interest,  so  grand,  so  calm,  so  self-contained, 
so  spiritually  impressive,  none  so  much  the  temple  of  heaven  as 
this,  whose  only  window  opens  to  the  stars  and  upper  skies. 
You  may  pass  great  modern  pagan  piles  and  shrines,  —  for  they 
are  only  strangers,  —  pass  great  basilicas  and  cathedrals ;  push 
past  the  spires  and  domes  and  towers  and  meeting-spots  of  men 
of  prayer  or  trade,  and  come  at  last  to  this  great  swelling  pagan 
fane,  this  enshrined  place  with  open  dome,  through  which 
floods  down  the  bright  sun's  rays  ;  through  which  comes  down 
the  falling  rain  ;  through  which  the  spirit  dove  may  come  and 
bear  away  on  high  our  prayers ;  through  which  our  thoughts 
and  incense  smoke  and  savory  smell  shall  unobstructed  rise  to 
heaven  \  this  is  the  holiest,  fairest  fane  in  Rome.  Sit  you  down 
upon  these  altar  steps  ;  they  are  cased  in  wood  that  officiating 
priests  may  not  chill  their  feet;  a  pope  lies  buried  here,  —  here 
where  the  priests  of  heathen  gods  have  said  their  orisons  ;  and 
over  there,  guarded  by  yon  marble  angel,  rests  Raphael ;  and 
round  about  lie  other  popes  and  artists.  There  beyond,  amid 
funereal  wreaths,  choice  flowers,  and  many  a  legend  commemo- 
rative of  his  royal  name  and  state,  all  well  guarded  by  a  most 
polite  servitor  of  the  crown,  sleeps  Victor  Emmanuel,  —  a  name 
beloved  in  Italy,  dearly  loved  and  fiercely  hated.  But  who  is 
buried  here  matters  nothing.  Look  around  you.  Embrace  the 
scene,  —  the  floor,  the  modest  columns  of  neat  workmanship. 
Observe  the  chapels,  sunk  within  the  immense  thickness  of  the 
rounded  walls.  These  were  the  niches  for  the  imperial  marbles 
that  represented  various  economic  parts  of  heaven  and  earth  ; 
and  over  there  where  the  high  altar  stands,  once  stood  Jupiter, 
the  ruler  of  the  universe.  Above  the  frieze  that  encircles  us, 
over  the  capitals,  begins  the  noble  dome,  —  the  grandest  dome 
on  earth.  The  prince  of  sculptors  and  architects  said  he  would 
raise  it  in  the  air  to  crown  St.  Peter's  with,  and  then  he  died. 
The  plans  were  changed  ;  another  dome  was  made,  and  the  Pan- 
theon still  stands  unequalled,  —  the  noblest  of  all  earthly  repre- 
sentations of  that  grand  stellar  dome  that  overarches  sun  and 
moon.  These  steeper,  loftier  domes  you  see  misrepresent  the 
real  thought.  The  dome  presents  the  sky.  Thus  felt  Angelo, 
whose  thought  aligned  with  Nature.  This  was  the  thought  of 
architects  of  Byzantine  days,  who  raised  the  St.  Sophia  dome, 
than  which  there  is  none  more  fair.     Yet  it  is  not  the  shape 


356  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

of  dome  or  porch  or  entablature  that  makes  this  church  —  this 
pagan-Christian  shrine  —  so  fair  to  me.  Nor  is  it  its  grand  ro- 
tundity, its  age.  But  it  is  its  aim  ;  its  pagan  origin ;  its  singular 
preservation  while  other  pagan  churches  fell  and  went  to  naught ; 
its  perfect  poise  in  shape  ;  the  perfect  rest  it  gives  to  you  within  ; 
its  genial  hints  of  earth  below  and  the  cerulean  concave  over  all ; 
earth  and  heaven,  —  the  level  earth  on  which  we  mortals  stay 
and  strut  awhile  ;  the  unobstructed  way  straight  overhead  through 
which  the  thought,  the  prayer,  the  disembodied  soul  may  soar 
away  to  rest,  to  heaven,  to  God  !  This  is  the  Pantheon, 
once  dedicated  to  gods.  This  is  the  Pantheon,  re-dedicated 
to  many  gods  in  One.  And  sitting  here  beneath  this  brick  and 
marble  benediction,  this  best  of  all  Italian  domes,  let  us  not 
forget  to  thank  the  Church  and  popes  that  erected  here  the 
sign  of  Christ  and  made  this  fane  a  Christian  church  ;  made  it 
partly  secure  from  wanton  sacrilege  and  brought  it  down  quite 
safe  and  sure  to  us  in  these  far-distant  days. 

A  week  in  Rome  !  One  hardly  gets  his  eyes  open,  — 
hardly  gets  used  to  the  stateliness,  the  magnificence,  the  gran- 
deur of  it  all.  You  go  to  the  great  churches  to  be  dazed,  to 
the  antiquities  to  be  amazed,  to  the  galleries  and  museums  to  be 
lost  in  bewilderment. 

Are  you  coming  to  Rome  ?  If  you  come  to  see  it  all,  —  to 
compass  its  palaces,  spiritual  and  civil ;  to  understand  its  an- 
tiquities ;  to  know  the  length  and  breadth  of  Rome  in  time  and 
figures,  —  come  early,  come  to  stay.  Come  well  braced  for  dis- 
appointment ;  for  when  you  have  spent  your  dear,  short  life  of 
twent)',  thirty,  or  forty  years  here,  you  will  know  so  little,  lack 
so  much,  that  you  will  not  dare  to  look  your  neighbor  in  the 
face.  I  envy  the  man  who  has  been  in  Rome  three  days  and 
tells  you  he  has  seen  it  all !  I  like  him  for  his  obdurate,  bliss- 
ful ignorance,  —  a  state  of  hopeless  mental  vacuity  that  outbids 
responsibility,  —  and  wish  he  would  \\Tite  a  book  on  Rome. 

You  come  to  Rome.  You  take  a  bite  to  eat,  order  a  vehicle. 
You  are  going  out  to  view  the  city.  Where  will  you  drive? 
Nine  times  out  of  ten  the  pilgrim  says,  "  St.  Peter's  Church." 
"  A  San  Peatro,"  speaks  your  porter  to  the  whip,  and  off  you  go ; 
off  through  close  narrow  streets,  hemmed  in  by  tall,  tawny, 
stuccoed    houses,    that    are   stores   and    shops   and   dwellings 


R AMBLINGS  IN  ROME.  357 

combined.  You  cross  the  bridge  of  Angels  in  a  trance,  you 
pass  the  castle  Angelo  in  a  daze,  you  squeeze  in  through  the 
Borgo  in  an  anxious  state,  and  facing  great  St.  Peter's  you  are 
crushed.  You  hunt  your  stock  of  words  :  they  are  misfits. 
You  try  to  tell  your  thoughts  :  they  are  too  insignificant.  You 
alight,  stare  at  the  colonnades,  the  great  ambitious  fountains,  the 
hieroglyphic  obelisk,  then  turn  and  go  inside.  If  you  are  wise 
you  '11  say  no  foolish  thing,  but  keep  your  silence.  You  cannot 
understand  a  thing  you  see  :  the  distances  are  great  and  over- 
come you  ;  the  heights  are  lofty,  —  room  in  any  corner  to  tuck 
away  your  village  church  and  never  miss  the  space  it  takes ;  the 
floor  a  wide  expanse  of  colored  marbles  ;  the  piers  and  columns, 
niches,  statues,  cherubs,  —  everything  so  out  of  all  proportions 
that  you  have  ever  seen,  you  cannot  take  it  in  and  can  scarcely 
find  your  tongue. 

You  will  join  the  crowd,  maybe,  and  kiss  Saint  Peter's  toe ; 
you  will  go  to  the  great  bronze  canopy  and  look  upon  the  many 
lighted  lamps  ;  gaze  up  above  the  clouds  and  find  the  heavens 
very  high  and  over-wrought  with  rows  of  saints,  —  tier  on  tier, 
with  Christ  and  Mary  where  the  sun  should  be.  You  hear 
church  music  somewhere  near  you  —  some  intoned  service,  — 
but  not  a  congregation  is  in  sight ;  the  great  floor  space  is  free 
of  crowds,  although  some  hundreds  of  people  wander  about  just 
as  you  do ;  you  wonder  where  the  singing  is,  and  go  to  seek  it, 
—  go  to  hunt  among  the  piers,  about  the  aisles  and  chapels ; 
at  last  you  find  it  way  off  to  one  side,  —  a  mere  chapel  service. 
But  look  you,  that  little  chapel  you  see  here  is  larger  than 
any  church,  perhaps,  you  have  ever  worshipped  in  :  its  dome 
mounts  up  two  hundred  feet  or  more  ;  its  floor  is  costly  marble 
work  ;  its  altar  golden  bronze  and  precious  stones  ;  its  pictures 
masterpieces.  Put  all  the  people  into  it  that  you  find  in 
your  average  church  at  home,  and  they  will  yet  leave  room  for 
as  many  more.  Nothing  is  small  here.  Stay  here  for  weeks, 
and  come  here  for  an  hour  every  day,  and  it  will  grow,  will 
take  on  form  and  shape,  and  you  will  get  accustomed  to  it.  It 
hardly  seems  the  work  of  man,  —  more  like  a  vast  majestic  cave 
arranged  by  supernatural  hands ;  some  cathedral  of  the  gods. 
The  work  of  man  can  be  described  so  man  can  understand ; 
this  passeth  all  description,  passeth  understanding.  You  may 
pace  it  off,  —  go  around  its  outer  walls,  and  those  of  its  annexes, 


358  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  the  adjoined  rooms  of  the  Vatican,  —  and  the  walk  is  longer 
than  that  which  compasses  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  !  You  trudge 
up  to  the  top  and  walk  about  the  streets  of  houses  there ;  the 
great  paved  roof  looks  like  a  village,  with  its  street  and  public 
square,  its  homes  for  the  workingmen,  of  whom  there  is  a  large 
force  to  keep  things  in  repair.  The  lofty  chapel  domes  that 
spring  up  through  the  roof  are  so  many  small  temples,  —  kiosks. 
The  grand  old  central  dome  that  mounts  up  over  there  beyond 
this  tidy  village  is  the  august  cathedral,  —  round,  as  was  cathe- 
dral shape  in  later  pagan  and  early  Christian  times.  You  wan- 
der here  at  leisure  ;  look  up  along  the  eighteen-feet  back  of  the 
Saviour  and  the  saints  that  from  the  roof-village  wall  look  down 
into  the  sixty-acre  open  square  that  fronts  the  great  St.  Peter's ; 
stray  round  the  sturdy  parapets,  climb  on  up  and  up  toward  the 
sun.  From  below  you  saw  a  little  ball,  —  an  ornament  on  the 
spire,  just  below  the  top.  It  is  bigger  than  your  head,  and 
coming  nearer,  it  grows  big  and  bigger  still,  and  when  you 
get  up  to  it  you  find  it  big  enough  to  let  you  in,  —  you  and 
your  wife  and  children,  uncles,  aunts,  and  visitors.  If  all  are 
good-sized,  sixteen  can  get  in,  and  more  of  big  and  little. 

From  the  lantern  railing  just  below  you  may  sit  and  see  the 
world.  Men  below  are  mites,  and  palaces  are  children's  play- 
house toys.  From  here  you  look  straight  down  into  the  Tiber, 
down  into  the  streets  and  public  squares  of  Rome,  as  you 
look  on  a  map,  or  on  the  earth  from  a  balloon.  You  may 
count  from  here  the  other  Roman  churches — one,  two,  three 
—  three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  whose  doors  stand  open  every 
day.  Full  many  of  these  are  marvels  of  marble,  fresco,  bronze, 
and  painted  scene ;  mosaics  rare  and  precious  stones,  and  gild 
and  glint  and  jewels.  In  olden  times,  those  times  of  pagan- 
dom, the  temples  were  the  banks  in  which  men  of  means  could 
keep  their  ready  funds  ;  the  priests  were  the  safe  cashiers  who 
had  not  heard  of  Montreal.  You  may  deposit  here,  as  many  a 
one  has  freely  done,  but  your  checks  will  not  be  honored. 
These  churches  have  much  of  interest ;  each  has  its  private 
curious  history  ;  each  picture,  saint,  and  chapel  has  its  tale  to 
tell ;  but  life  is  too  short  to  find  them  out.  We  look  about  a 
church  or  two,  and  leave  the  rest  behind. 

The  Forum.  You  have  been  a  schoolboy,  and  spoken  your 
piece  upon  the  stage.     Then  you  know  the  Forum,  but  as  it 


R  A  MB  LINGS  IN  ROME.  359 

was  in  the  time  of  Caesar,  Brutus,  and  Cicero.  Well,  here  we 
are,  in  a  deep,  dilapidated  place,  —  an  excavation  of  a  recent 
date,  which  has  uncovered  the  temple  floors  and  steps,  the 
broken  prostrate  columns  and  capitals,  uncovered  bases,  lower 
parts  of  upright  arches,  columns,  that  the  dust  of  ages  had 
buried  twenty  feet ;  uncovered  altars  where  were  offered  pious 
sacrifices  to  the  heavenly  gods.  Here  came  and  talked  and 
walked  and  schemed  your  old  friends,  the  Casars  ;  here  Cicero 
arraigned  Catiline  ;  here  Catiline  was  strangled ;  and  —  oh,  the 
irony  of  fate  !  —  here  were  his  head  and  hand  cut  off  by  Antony, 
and  exposed  to  public  gaze  ;  and  here  came  Fluvia,  widow  of 
his  victim  Clodius,  and  plucked  out  that  silvery  tongue  which 
once  had  swayed  the  senate  and  heart  of  Rome,  and  pierced 
it  with  her  hair-pin,  spat  in  his  face,  and  went  her  way.  Here 
was  Cicero  murdered  and  impaled  by  Mark  Antony,  who  spoke 
so  grandly  over  Caesar's  corse,  —  spake  that  same  speech  which 
drove  the  murderous  Brutus  forth  ;  the  same  speech  that  you 
have  shouted  out  upon  the  dreaded  school-house  stage,  among 
tow-headed  boys  and  girls. 

You  may  sit  here  on  the  rostrum  now,  here  by  the  grand  old 
Severus  Arch,  sit  here  and  see  the  ruined  shrines  of  other  days, 
—  the  few  remaining  temple  columns,  twenty,  perhaps,  left  out 
of  the  thousand  that  sustained  so  many  a  rich-cut  frieze  and 
cornice  rare  in  the  palmy  days  of  Rome.  Here  is  the  old-time 
pavement  of  the  Via  Sacra ;  the  very  stones  are  at  your  feet 
that  many  a  Caesar  trod  upon.  Round  here  strode  Pompey, 
called  the  Great ;  here  came  the  lawyers  to  the  courts ;  here 
trod  the  senators  of  Rome,  the  generals  coming  back  from  wars, 
the  victors  in  triumphal  cars  with  countless  spoils,  and  kings 
and  princes  as  prisoners.  Here,  too,  came  the  priests  of  shrines, 
the  virtuous  vestal  maidens  to  the  plays,  and  —  no  use  to  tell 
you  more,  for  you  already  know  what  was  done  here  when,  from 
this  very  region  where  we  sit  and  muse  and  try  to  talk,  edicts 
went  forth,  eagle-winged,  to  farthest  Europe,  to  Asia,  to  Africa, 
to  all  the  continents  of  this  great  hemisphere,  to  order  and 
control  affairs  in  all  the  then  known  world. 

How  small  and  weak  you  feel,  and  how  benumbed,  —  bereft 
of  thought  and  speech,  in  this,  the  centre  of  a  powerful  world. 
It  has  happened  but  once,  —  and  happened  where  you  sit  to- 
day,—  only  once  when  one  man,  one  power,  has  ruled  so  much 


36o  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

of  earth.  We  talk  of  the  great  powers  now,  —  the  great  powers 
of  Europe.  Why,  Caesar's  hand  covered  the  whole  of  it,  — 
this  boasted  map,  this  patchwork  crazy-quilt !  And  this  was 
but  a  tithe  of  Rome's  possessions. 

This  early  June  Roman  weather  is  very  fine,  —  just  warm 
enough  for  thin  woollen  clothes  by  day  and  perfect  rest  at  night. 
You  hear  of  Rome  as  an  unhealthy  place.  You  need  not 
believe  it  unless  you  want  to,  for  it  is  not  so.  People  do  die 
here  ;  so  they  do  in  comfortable  beds  at  home  ;  but  the  death- 
rate  is  not  in  any  way  alarming.  If  a  sickly  traveller  comes 
here  and  dies,  a  great  many  people  hear  of  it  at  home  and  lay 
the  blame  to  Rome.  Foolish  people  come  here  and  tramp 
about  in  the  hot  sun,  then  cool  themselves  too  quickly  looking 
at  interesting  things  in  cool  old  church  caves  ;  as  a  result  take 
cold,  —die,  perhaps,  or  have  a  long  pull  at  "  Roman  fever,"  — 
and  Rome  must  stand  the  blame.  This  is  all  nonsense.  Come 
to  Rome  when  you  may ;  if  you  are  sound  of  health,  and  know 
how  to  dress  comfortably,  eat  and  drink  reasonably,  work  fairly 
eight  hours  a  day  and  rest  the  other  sixteen,  you  need  have  no 
fear.  If  you  are  not  in  proper  health,  then  stay  at  home.  Don't 
come  to  Italy  to  find  it. 

The  streets  of  Rome  —  that  is,  of  old  Rome  —  are  narrow 
and  tortuous,  a  maze  of  alleys,  lanes,  and  tangled  ways,  much 
like  the  older  parts  of  Boston  or  New  York.  But  they  are 
better  paved  and  surely  quite  as  clean  as  are  the  streets  of 
either.  In  former  times,  no  doubt,  these  streets  were  full  of 
filth.  The  early  Christians  must  have  been  a  dirty  people,  rank- 
ing cleanliness  next  to  heathenism,  and  took  the  way  most 
choked  with  filth  as  the  most  direct  to  heaven.  The  proof  of 
this  is  all  about.  They  took  no  care  of  streets,  removed  from 
them  no  dirt  or  filth  ;  and  this  Rome  of  to-day  is  a  good  ten  or 
fifteen  feet  above  the  grade  of  ancient  Rome.  Not  that  the 
grade  needed  raising,  but  the  natural  indolence  and  supreme 
nastiness  of  mediaeval  Christian  Rome  let  all  dirt  and  filth  re- 
main in  the  streets,  where  it  piled  up  and  up,  year  after  year 
and  century  after  century,  until  the  place  became  a  mass  of 
fetid  misery. 

The  reason  some  assign  for  this  is  that  Christians  regarded 
Roman  ways  as  heathenish.     The  Roman  bathed  a  great  deal. 


R AMBLINGS  IN  ROME.  36 1 

and  gave  great  attention  to  cleanliness  of  person,  streets,  and 
their  surroundings.  In  the  mind  of  the  Christian  this  way  of 
living  was  all  wrong,  because  it  was  the  heathen  way.  So,  as 
the  Christian  came  into  power,  he  let  the  baths  decay,  and  let 
the  streets  fill  up.  Even  some  of  the  monkish  orders  —  those 
who  went  to  a  life  of  hermitage  —  were  enemies  of  soap,  and 
held  clean  water  as  fit  only  to  drink. 

But  it  is  different  now  here  and  in  most  Italian  towns.  Here 
every  street  is  nicely  paved,  and  swept  up  every  day.  No  mud 
or  filth  or  garbage  of  any  sort  is  left  upon  these  stones,  and 
there  is  water  everywhere.  Street  sprinkling  is  not  done,  be- 
cause the  streets  are  so  well  paved  and  swept  there  is  no  dust 
to  lay.  In  new  Rome,  where  the  streets  are  wide  and  macad- 
amized, or  partly  paved,  they  sprinkle  them  the  same  as  in  other 
towns.  There  are  fountains,  —  fountains  everywhere,  and  count- 
less drinking-places.  In  most  of  our  American  cities  a  thirsty 
person  may  travel  hours  and  find  no  place  to  drink  pure  water. 
Our  people  talk  more  temperance  in  a  week  than  you  will  hear 
here  in  a  lifetime ;  yet  we  seldom  furnish  public  drinking- 
places  where  one  athirst  may  find  relief. 

All  this  may  not  have  much  to  do  with  the  temperance  spirit 
here  or  there ;  but  it  does  not  change  the  fact  that  in  these 
places  of  abundant  water  supply,  and  where  light  wines  and 
beers  are  drunk,  you  see  no  drunkenness.  In  his  admirable 
"  Irensus  Letters,"  some  years  since,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Prime  said 
that  in  his  far-and-wide  European  travels  he  had  seen,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  no  drunkenness.  Thinking  the  statement 
rather  queer,  I  have  kept  it  many  years  in  mind.  I  have  found 
the  statement  true,  at  least  in  Continental  Europe.  It  is  now 
almost  a  year  since  I  set  sail  from  San  Francisco  ;  the  way 
around  has  taken  me  to  many  cities,  through  the  best  and  worst 
of  many  cities'  streets,  and  all  the  drunken  men  there  seen  can 
be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  my  hand.  Water,  water,  every- 
where, and  every  chance  to  drink.  Make  drinking-places 
plenty,  pleasant,  and  attractive,  and  you  will  help  along  the 
cause  of  temperance.  And  so  with  these  clean  streets  and  this 
free  use  of  water,  Rome  to-day  is  not  the  place  it  was,  but 
very  healthy.  Most  of  this  grand  cleaning  up  and  paving  was 
done  during  the  pontificate  of  good  old  Pius  IX.,  who  gave 
great  impetus  to  Rome.     Now  that  the  popish  rule  is  changed 


362  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

to  that  of  state,  the  good  work  still  goes  on  ;  beggary  has  nearly 
disappeared,  much  building  is  being  done,  and  Rome  is 
prosperous. 

Prosperous  or  not,  it  is  ever  full  of  interest.  There  are 
enough  of  the  monuments  of  antiquity  left  to  give  it  zest ;  and 
the  collections  made  of  pictures  and  statuary,  by  princes,  popes, 
and  cardinals,  —  these  and  the  legends  of  the  ancient  time,  — 
the  stories  told  of  middle  centuries  and  early  Christian  days, 
make  Rome  a  place  of  never-failing  interest. 

The  courtesy  of  this  people  is  something  wonderful.  Who 
among  us  who  have  fine  houses,  galleries  of  art,  and  costly  pre- 
cious things,  throw  open  our  rich  rooms  to  every  curious  tramp 
that  comes  along,  to  come  in  and  inspect  ?  The  number  is  too 
small  to  name,  if  one,  indeed,  there  be.  Yet  here  in  Rome  a 
dozen  noble  homes  and  villas,  yes,  nearly  every  noted  palace, 
hall,  or  country  seat  in  Rome  or  round  about  its  walls,  are  open 
on  certain  days  for  all  to  come,  —  come  free  and  welcome  ;  go 
about  the  gorgeous  halls  and  rooms  and  dainty  cabinets  ;  inspect 
the  rare  things  there,  —  collections  of  the  house  for  ages  past, 
—  things  that  can  nowhere  else  be  seen.  This  is  most  kind  and 
generous,  this  worthy,  public-spirited,  Italian  way  of  making 
Rome  inviting ;  of  making  it  well  worth  your  while  to  come. 
These  people  are  under  no  obligation  to  the  world  at  large. 
There  is  no  reason  why  they  should  invite  you  to  drive  up 
to  their  private  doors,  walk  in  and  go  upstairs,  go  tramping 
about  and  dirtying  their  floors  and  making  work  for  servants ; 
no  reason  only  this, — they  are  courteous,  obliging  folk;  they 
and  their  ancestors  have  collected  fine  things  in  art  for  their 
own  pleasure ;  and  since  there  is  a  strong  desire  on  the  part  of 
tourists  to  see  these  things,  they  heed  the  want  in  real  courtesy ; 
invite  you  in  to  see  what  they  have  got,  and  make  you  glad  you 
came.  This  is  genuine  courtesy,  and  we  can't  thank  them  too 
much  for  it. 

Even  the  grand  Farnesina  has  been  re-opened  twice  a  month 
to  visitors.  This  is  the  famous  Chigi  house,  built  here  in  Ra- 
phael's time  by  an  ambitious  banker  who  had  wealth  to  squander. 
So  he  built  this  palace,  and  he  employed  no  less  an  artist  than 
Raphael  himself  to  come  and  decorate  these  noble  halls  and 
rooms.  They  have  not  been  shown  much  to  the  public  in  the 
past  twenty  years  ;  and  all  art  lovers  were  much  rejoiced  when, 


R AMBLINGS  FN  ROME.  363 

a  year  or  two  ago,  it  was  announced  that  twice  a  month  the 
Raphael  treasure-rooms  of  the  Farnesina  palace  would  be 
opened  up  again.  In  all  Rome  —  not  in  the  world  —  are  there 
such  rooms  as  these,  such  lovely  frescos.  Those  of  the  same 
great  master  at  the  Vatican  are  fine,  but  not  so  full  of  human 
interest,  and  these  are  much  better  preserved. 

You  may  have  read  the  story  of  the  loves  of  Cupid  and  Psyche, 
and  what  a  row  their  quiet  courtship  made  among  the  women 
who  lived  about  Olympus.  You  know  that  Venus  tried  to  spoil 
the  match,  and  persuaded  great  Jupiter  to  interfere.  He  ordered 
Mars  to  straight  arrest  this  human  girl  and  bring  her  to  his  great 
Olympic  court  for  trial ;  that  it  might  be  fully  shown  why  she 
had  tampered  —  she,  a  girl  of  earth  —  with  Cupid's  affections. 
The  court  assembled  ;  Mars  brought  in  his  prisoner,  fairer  than 
Juno,  Venus,  —  fairer  than  any  there.  The  painter  takes  this 
moment  for  his  glorious  ceiling  picture,  —  the  Court  at  Mount 
Olympus.  If  one  might  do  impossible  things  with  pen  and  ink, 
you  might  be  shown  this  wondrous  composition  situate  on  the 
fleecy  clouds.  This  and  its  companion  piece,  the  Supper  of 
the  Gods,  are  gems  of  art  defying  ordinary  writers'  skill.  You 
know  that  Psyche  won  her  case  in  spite  of  all  opposing  arts,  and 
that,  in  order  to  keep  Cupid  at  home,  his  fair  fiancee  was  made 
immortal  and  given  a  place  among  the  dwellers  of  heaven  who 
lived  about  Olympus.  The  trial  over,  the  verdict  on  the  lovers' 
side,  then  came  the  marriage  ceremony,  and  next  the  wedding 
feast.  This  forms  the  subject  of  the  second  picture,  —  the  equal 
of  the  first,  and  by  many  most  admired.  At  all  events,  the  feast 
was  graced  by  the  presence  of  Jupiter  and  Juno  and  many 
another  deity,  and  there  aloft  upon  the  mimic  clouds  the  artist 
shows  them  all.  These  and  the  lunette  pictures  of  the  room 
make  up  a  rare  gallery,  such  as  can  nowhere  else  be  seen ; 
and  we  left  them  simply  because  we  had  to  go. 

The  second  room  —  they  show  but  two  —  is  also  very  fine, 
but  not  so  fine  as  the  first.  In  it  is  shown  the  famous  Galatea, 
by  Raphael's  hand  ;  Perseus  and  Medusa,  the  hand  of  Perseus 
clinched  in  the  Medusa's  snaky  hair,  ready  to  decapitate  ;  the 
fair  Diana  driving  forth  her  mismatched  bullock  team  yoked  to 
a  golden  car.  The  conception  in  these  two  falls  far  short  of 
that  in  the  other  ceiling,  —  so  far  short  that  you  feel  disposed 
to  question  whether  Raphael  had  any  hand  in  them  at  all. 


364  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

The  reason  why  these  treasures  have  been  so  long  locked 
up  from  public  gaze  may  as  well  be  told,  in  the  hope  that  it 
may  do  some  good  and  keep  some  lawless  travellers  from  a 
similar  trespass.  These  rooms  and  more  were  open  long  ago 
to  visitors.  A  prowling  idiot  —  a  traveller  —  wanting  in  man- 
ners and  having  no  eye  for  the  quality  of  art,  but  seeking  great- 
est quantity,  went  rushing  through  the  opened  rooms,  in  his 
greed  trying  the  locks  of  other  doors.  As  ill-fortune  would 
have  it,  instead  of  stumbling  through  some  door  into  a  hatchway 
and  properly  breaking  his  worthless  head,  he  opened  the  very 
door  that  chance  had  left  unlocked,  and  bolted  into  the  but 
newly  wedded  princess's  dressing-room  !  From  that  time  the 
palace  doors  were  closed  against  the  outer  world  for  many 
years.  In  future,  let  us  hope  lawless  louts  like  this  will  stay  at 
home  and  allow  the  world  to  enjoy  these  most  rare  palace 
rooms. 

Rome  is  getting  dull,  they  say,  —  that  is,  the  season  is  getting 
late,  with  only  now  and  then  a  straggler  coming  from  the 
North.  Besides,  the  cholera  is  gaining  here  and  there  about  the 
state,  which  heads  off  many  tourists.  But  the  cholera  interferes 
less  with  people's  comfort  and  mental  rest,  so  far  as  my  ob- 
servation goes,  than  something  else.  In  many  days  of  steady 
travel  from  Japan  here,  cholera  has  attended  every  step ;  no 
city  seemed  to  be  quite  free  of  it,  and  in  many  it  was  raging. 
But  in  the  Orient,  in  India  and  China,  the  people  seem  to  have 
but  little  fear  of  it,  it  being  a  sort  of  matter-of-course  disease.  A 
cholera  death  would  stir  New  York  all  through  ;  a  cholera  death 
at  Calcutta  would  not  vacate  a  seat  —  not  more  than  one  —  in 
the  hotel  where  it  happened,  so  used  do  people  get  to  it. 

Now  drive  once  more  to  Trevi  fountain  and  take  of  its  bright 
waters  yet  another  drink,  to  bring  us  safely  back  to  good  old 
Rome.  Once  more  now  to  the  Pantheon,  the  shrine  of  two 
millenniums ;  then  once  again  wander  in  the  marble  maze  of 
great  St.  Peter's  shrine,  to  view  the  old-time  things  down  in 
the  crypt ;  to  mount  aloft  five  hundred  feet  in  air  to  view  the 
real  map  of  Rome,  to  count  her  hills,  point  out  her  temples, 
palaces,  and  walls.  Then  to  the  Vatican  again  to  see  mosaic 
pictures  made  of  colored  vitreous  bits,  so  firmly  fixed  in  color 
as  to  laugh  at  Father  Time  and  set  at  naught  all  fading.  These 
pictures  are  a  wonder.     The  copy  picture  stands  before   the 


RAMBLINGS  IN  ROME.  365 

workman,  —  your  portrait  if  you  please,  or  one  most  intricate, 
presenting  all  the  glories  of  the  painter's  thought  and  brush. 
Within  his  reach  lies  the  vitreous  material  in  every  variety  of 
shape  and  color,  —  in  twenty  thousand  different  shades  !     He 
breaks  these  bits  to  proper  shape,  —  and  some  of  them  present 
no  more  surface  than  a  common  needle's  broken  end,  —  and 
patiently   shapes   them    on   a   whirling   stone,  arranges   them, 
well    fastened    in    cement,    the   upward   faces   showing   every 
light  and  shade  and  tint  and  tone  the  painting  he  is  copying 
has.     Patience  ?     Year  after  year  do  men  work  at  a  single  pic- 
ture.    These  saintly  portraits  take  two  years  or  more.     This 
picture  has  been  worked  at  nine  years  by  one  man,  and  is  yet 
unfinished.     Patience  !     It  makes  one  tired  to  look  at  them. 
The  eight-and-twenty  thousand  different  colors  are  cut  in  cubes 
and  carefully  arranged  in  cases,  each  cube  or  block  plainly  num- 
bered.    The  material  ready  for  use  is  in  other  boxes,  like  the 
boxes  printers  use  for  capitals.     These,  too,  are  numbered,  the 
contents  corresponding  with  the  sample  tints.     Take  blue,  for 
a  Madonna's  eyes  and  outer  robe.     How  many  shades  of  blue 
are  there  ?     Count  them  as  fast  as  the  clock  counts  seconds. 
Try  to  detect  the  difference  in  shade.     Count  on ;  an  hour  or 
so,  if  you  have  patience,  will  see  you  through.     So  on  through 
all  the  colors,  —  all  the  varying  tints  and  shades  you  see  in  flesh 
and  fabric  ;  all  that  flora  gives  and  fauna  too  ;  colors  of  earth 
and  flame  and  smoke,  of  rainbow  tints  and  softest  shades  in 
fleecy  clouds  and  opening  buds,  or  pansy  petals  peeping  from 
the  dewy  grass,  —  all,  every  matching  tint  is  here  within  this 
checkered  case.     Aladdin  rubbed  his  lamp,  and  brought  great 
wonders  forth.     The  artist  here  rubs  bits  of  colored  glass,  and 
evolves  miracles. 


366  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THROUGH   THE   ALPS. 

Pisa,  its  Tower  and  Temples.  —  Among  the  Mountain  Lakes.  —  The 
Gothard  Tunnel  Line.  —  Marvels  of  Engineering.  —  Through  the 
Snows  on  Horseback  —  Geneva,  Lake  and  City.  —  A  Region  of  Fine 
Scenery  and  Bad  Theology.  —  The  Decay  of  Travel  in  Switzerland. 

THE  Alps  at  Andermatt !  A  week  ago,  Rome,  briglit, 
warm,  full  of  summer  life.  To-day,  the  Alps,  cool, 
quiet,  with  weeping  clouds.  The  rail  took  us  to  Pisa,  which 
tourists  generally  cut  off  with  a  shilling.  It  is  hardly  right,  for 
she  has  most  excellent  and  curious  things  to  show.  The  tower 
is  famous  in  its  lack  of  rectitude.  It  is  not  elegant,  though 
built  with  utmost  care,  —  a  place  in  which  to  hang  and  ring 
cathedral  bells,  wedding  and  funeral  bells.  It  has  never  been 
copied,  no  one  thinking  enough  of  it  to  reproduce  it.  When 
an  architect  or  a  miUiner  does  a  really  good  thing,  there  is  no 
end  of  imitators.  Egyptian  obelisks  were  built  five  thousand 
years  ago,  and  they  are  copied  yet ;  so  are  bonnets ;  but  this 
old  tower,  never.  It  leans  because  the  earth  beneath  it  gave 
way  when  they  built  it.  It  yielded  just  so  much,  then  stopped. 
This  is  odd.  Another  inch  or  two  of  yielding  would  have 
thrown  it  down,  and  Pisa  with  it,  as  a  tourist  point.  You  see 
some  men  —  ministers,  perhaps,  or  yet  newspaper  men  —  who 
lean  this  way  or  that  about  so  far,  and  always  stay  there.  Many 
who  lean  at  all  do  so  too  much,  and  fall,  for  it  is  a  dangerous 
habit. 

But  there  are  fine  things  at  Pisa.  If  you  like  really  fine  and 
unique  things  in  marble  you  should  go  inside  the  Pisan  temple, 
—  a  grand  old  church,  built  of  black  and  white  marble,  with 
numerous  granite  columns  ranging  down  the  noble  naves  and 
transept ;  adorned  with  many  a  goodly  painting,  rare  mosaic- 
work,  and  inwrought  precious  marbles,  with  bronzes,  dura  pietra, 
and  gold  lavishly  used  in  ceiling  work,  —  the  whole  a  noble 
poem  around  the  wondrous  altar  gemmed  with  precious  stones ; 


THROUGH  THE  ALPS.  367 

around  Galileo's  lamp,  suspended  from  aloft,  and  swinging  even 
now  as  on  that  day  when  the  most  thoughtful  student  of  the 
Pisan  school  watched  its  vibrations  and  matured  some  living 
thoughts.  You  will  go  a  long  journey  to  find  a  church  so  full 
of  interest.  Its  great  bronze  doors  are  very  old  and  picturesque. 
They  stop  you  at  the  threshold  to  tell  you  in  their  bronze  relief 
the  Bible  history  of  the  world,  in  simple  ways,  often  ludicrous. 
You  see  the  many  granite  columns,  so  old,  mismatched  in  size 
and  length,  patched  up  here  and  there,  to  make  the  best  of  it. 
These  columns  came  from  Baalbec  and  from  Ephesus.  These 
and  many  a  precious  marble  here  and  round  about  in  Pisa  were 
inherited  from  the  heathen.  These  Pisans,  you  may  have  read, 
were  mariners  and  prowled  about  the  seas ;  took  things  that 
belonged  to  other  folks,  robbed  temples  of  their  shrines  and 
columns,  and  brought  them  here  because  they  were  richly 
wrought,  and  because  all  their  plundering  and  pious  stealings 
would  come  in  handy  in  erecting  temples,  altars,  shrines  to 
Mary,  Christ,  and  the  eternal  God. 

It  looks  curious.  I  like  these  grand  old  pagan  stones ;  would 
like  to  hear  the  story  of  their  lives,  their  temples  in  the  East 
despoiled  by  Christian  hands ;  would  like  to  hear  their  thoughts 
while  listening  to  a  sermon  on  the  goodly  text,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
steal  !  "  They  say  that  no  good  comes  of  stealing.  But  the 
very  roofs  of  this  and  many  other  fine  old  pious  piles  would  fall 
to  earth  if  restoration  were  made.  We  go  into  the  Campo  Santo, 
"  holy  ground."  This  dirt  was  brought  from  Calvary  to  bury 
pious  Pisans  in.  You  walk  about  on  dead  men's  breasts.  The 
ambitious  story  of  their  virtues  and  their  power  is  told  in  mar- 
ble underneath  your  feet.  What  irony  !  So  do  the  thronging 
tourists  —  strangers  to  the  mighty  dead  —  obliterate  the  names 
of  such  as  built  these  towers  and  churches,  and  smirch  their 
virtues  with  their  feet.  Here  lived  old  Nicolo  Pisano ;  here 
lived  John,  his  son.  Would  you  see  their  noble  works?  Eook 
you  at  the  pulpit  in  the  Baptistery,  —  world-renowned  work  ;  look 
you  at  the  older  gates  in  Florence  ;  look  at  marbles  and  bronzes 
scattered  far  and  wide,  —  most  precious  work.  Names  of  these 
and  such  as  these  you  should  at  least  respect.  You  see  Giotto's 
frescos  on  the  walls,  —  those  florid  Bible  stories.  Here  are 
heaven  and  hell,  —  graves  yielding  up  their  dead,  — and  here  the 
resurrection,  the   souls  of  men  long  dead  escaping  from  their 


368  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

mouths  to  be  caught  by  angels  or  devils,  sometimes  an  angel 
and  a  devil  tugging  at  a  hapless  soul.  What  interesting  mock- 
ery is  this,  thus  to  be  pictured  by  religious  man,  thus  to  be 
nurtured  by  the  Christian  faith  !  What  horrid  nightmares  this 
Giotto  must  have  had,  to  conjure  up  such  orgies  as  he  has 
painted  here  !  But  he  gave  the  world  the  precious  Campanile 
tower  at  Florence,  far  better  than  this  staggering  Pisan  one  ; 
so  we  forgive  him. 

But  we  must  not  stop  in  Pisa,  whose  curious  Baptistery,  with 
columns  from  Asia  Minor,  with  Pisano's  noble  work,  with 
its  wondrous  echoes  and  most  wonderful  exterior,  must  all  be 
left  behind.  From  the  grand  old  cathedral,  with  stolen  columns 
and  unique  arches,  from  the  tower,  the  burial-ground,  and  all, 
we  rush  away,  to  visit,  for  a  single  busy  day,  old  Genoa,  —  Genoa, 
with  its  churches,  palaces,  the  grandest  burying-ground  in  all 
the  world,  and  an  ingenious  garden ;  Genoa,  the  home  of 
Columbus,  who  did  n't  discover  America,  — who,  if  the  truth 
were  known,  but  bravely  followed  up  a  long-known  fact.  The 
thought  that  this  America,  which  was  known  in  European  ports 
to  lie  out  beyond  the  sea  some  three  thousand  miles  or  so, 
might  be  a  part  of  the  East  Indies,  might  have  been  original 
with  him,  but  even  that  is  doubtful.  The  rest  is  more  than 
doubtful.  America  was  fairly  well  known,  as  to  its  northern 
coasts,  five  hundred  years  before  Columbus  sailed.  However, 
we  gaze  upon  his  bust  and  on  his  portrait  picture,  wish  him 
well,  and  go  our  way.  The  Pallavicini  gardens  are  beautiful,  — 
a  thousand  acres  of  steep  mountain-side  turned  up  toward  the 
sunny  sea,  whicli  skill  and  money  and  Father  Time  have  made 
most  beautiful  in  walks  and  shades  ;  in  caves  and  lakes  and 
marble  sculptures,  brought  from  far  and  near  to  grace  a  prince's 
grounds  withal.  The  water  fantasies  are  strange  and  most 
surprising. 

We  sail  to  Bellagio,  —  an  anxious  pilgrimage  to  earth's  most 
lovely  spot !  There  are  always  some  friends,  you  know,  who  are 
better  than  all  other  friends  ;  some  city,  sculpture,  picture,  fairer 
to  you  than  all  the  rest ;  some  spot  on  earth  to  which  your  mind 
will  turn  regardless  of  your  will,  as  brightest,  best  of  all.  That 
place  in  this,  my  travel  world,  is  fair  Bellagio.  A  noble  prom- 
ontory between  the  branches  of  this  Como  Lake,  with  shaded 
nooks  and  winding  paths  and  arbored  seats,  from  which  you 


THROUGH  THE  ALPS.  369 

look  down  many  hundred  feet  on  dark  and  pale  blue  waters  ; 
look  far  up  the  lofty  clear-lined  hills  and  crests  and  snow- 
crowned  peaks  ;  look  far  out  upon  the  rippling  bosom  of  the 
lake,  —  out  on  lovely  villages  and  villas  nestling  here  and 
there  among  the  trees  and  flowering  vines,  among  fountains, 
lawns,  and  grottos.  This  is  Bellagio,  this  castle-crowned  Monte 
Surbellona.  Eden  ?  Better  than  Eden.  There  is  no  avenging 
angel  here  to  drive  you  out.  It  is  no  fantasy,  but  a  living, 
ripe  reality,  —  a  place  for  happiest  solitude,  content,  and  perfect 
rest.  You  might  stay  for  days  and  weeks  upon  this  queen  of 
all  the  lakes,  hemmed  in  by  mountains  and  rich  foliage  ;  this 
place  of  vistas,  busy  brooks,  perennial  flowers,  —  a  paradise. 

The  route  lies  through  other  mountain  lakes,  and  the  bright 
scenery  of  early  summer.  The  mountain  streams  are  frequent ; 
everywhere  long  lines  of  silver  brooks  come  tumbling  down 
the  smooth-faced  mountain-sides,  foaming  with  restless  energy, 
—  countless  cascades  weaving  bridal  veils, — then  pitching  head- 
long into  the  deep  clear  lake,  adding  fresh  tints  gathered  from 
the  clouds.  The  route  beyond  the  lakes  is  up  the  Ticino,  —  a 
good-sized,  restless  river  rushing  along  among  the  rocks,  falling 
some  twelve  thousand  feet  in  less  than  fifty  miles,  feeding  on 
wild  mountain  rills,  tearing  through  the  gorges,  —  epitome  of 
endless  energy. 

We  are  on  the  famous  Gothard  line,  —  the  railroad  route  that 
makes  sport  of  difficulties  seemingly  insurmountable.  There 
are  people  who  challenge  your  admiration ;  and  among  them  is 
the  civil  engineer.  Give  him  tools,  and  tell  him  where  you  want 
to  go,  put  money  in  his  purse,  and  he  will  get  there,  —  over, 
under,  through,  or  round  about.  The  work  will  ripen,  sure  as 
fate.  He  cHmbed  these  mountains  here  for  miles  and  miles 
without  a  "  reverse  ;  "  made  lengthy  loops  far  under  ground  to 
gain  more  altitude,  now  channelling  the  mountain's  upright 
face,  now  striding  across  a  mighty  torrent,  now  burrowing  in 
the  mountain's  rocky  sides,  mining  at  varying  grade  and  curve 
as  though  he  wrought  in  open  air,  and  finally  coming  out  at  just 
the  point  he  wanted  to. 

It  takes  two  hours  or  so  after  you  have  quit  the  lake-shore 
work  to  get  up  to  the  tunnel,  and  every  foot  is  a  fight  with 
mountain  obstacles.  Every  inch  bids  the  engineer  defiance,  — 
dares  him  to  take  another  step.     Coolly  he  consults  his  instru- 

24 


370  A    GIRDLE  HOUND    THE  EARTH. 

ments,  plans  an  attack,  and  carries  every  point.  Exteriors  head 
him  off.  No  matter,  he  goes  inside.  At  Airolo  the  baffled 
Alpine  king  mustered  all  his  forces,  — presented  a  solid  breast- 
work to  our  engineer.  Two  thousand  feet  or  more  of  solid 
perpendicular  rock  opposed  the  man  of  levels,  —  a  stony  army  ; 
ten  miles  of  flinty  ranks  to  fight.  This  is  nothing.  If  the 
enemy  won't  fight  fair  upon  an  open  field,  the  engineer  will 
quit  the  surface  altogether.  He  disappears  awhile,  —  delves 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  —  then  reappears  ten  miles  or  more 
in  the  enemy's  rear.  The  Alpine  monarch  gave  it  up ;  and  he 
who  has  controlled  the  march  of  armies,  marking  the  cost,  the 
time,  the  seasons  when  they  might  painfully  and  patiently  pass 
his  strong  dominions,  paying  him  costly  tribute  at  every  step,  has 
yielded  to  this  youthful  engineering  David,  and  is  now  as  meek 
and  mild  as  your  pliant  prairie  king.  The  steam  horse  comes 
and  goes ;  sports  among  these  Alpine  limbs  and  ribs ;  puffs 
smoke  into  his  scowling,  helpless  face  ;  and  blows  his  mighty 
horn  in  the  imperial  ear.  So  are  the  mighty  fallen  !  So  has 
the  little  man  of  calculating  ways,  with  bits  of  glass  and  brass 
and  pencil-stub,  subdued  this  long-time  Mediterranean  monarch. 
Thus  mind  conquers  matter,  and  science  wears  the  crown. 

We  quit  the  train  at  Airolo.  No  proper  tourist  can  afford  to 
rush  beneath  the  glories  of  the  great  Gothard  pass,  to  grovel  in 
the  earth  and  smoke,  when  he  can  climb  such  heights  as  these, 
and  play  bo-peep  with  sun  and  moon  among  the  clouds.  A 
hasty  lunch,  a  carriage,  three  stout  horses,  three  saddles,  and 
three  men,  and  we  are  off  for  the  upper  air.  A  quick  lunch 
here,  as  anywhere,  is  a  bowl  of  bread  and  milk,  a  piece  of  cheese, 
with  bread  and  butter.  Goats'  milk  is  common  in  the  Alps ; 
but  many  don't  like  it.  One  thinks  it  spoils  his  bread,  the 
other  likes  his  coffee  clear  ;  but  it  is  wholesome  ;  and  what  is 
taste,  after  all,  but  education  ?  The  Chinaman  will  eat  his  cat  in 
sweet  contentment  ;  the  Malay  will  relish  sea-slugs ;  the  Gaul 
eats  frogs,  the  Italian  snails,  and  Americans  the  oyster.  Is  the 
American  ahead ;  or  is  the  man  of  cats,  or  slugs,  or  frogs,  or 
snails  ?  Get  out  your  facts,  —  they  are  all  at  fault,  for  it 's 
only  custom  after  all. 

Away  we  go.  We  climb  the  hill  by  zigzags,  —  one,  three,  five, 
fifteen  hundred  feet  straight  up ;  then  add  some  thousands  more. 
We  found  the  landlord  prevaricated.    We  asked  him  if  the  snow- 


THROUGH   THE  ALPS.  37 1 

drifts  blocked  the  road  across  the  pass.  There  was  no  snow, 
he  said. 

"What,  then,  are  these  three  saddles  for?  " 

"  Oh,  you  will  find  some  bad  roads,  some  rocks  fallen  down  ; 
the  carriage  cannot  go,  so  you  must  ride  a  bit.  I  '11  telegraph  a 
carriage  to  meet  you  on  the  other  side." 

The  talk  was  good  enough,  but  hardly  true,  A  few  thousand 
feet  above,  the  snow  was  in  deep  drifts  across  the  way,  —  deep 
December  drifts  that  were  there  to  stay  till  June  was  far  away. 
The  saddles  were  for  snow-drift  riding,  —  one  for  baggage,  two 
for  three  full-grown  men.  What  should  be  done  ?  Being  rather 
light,  we  would  divide  our  horse  with  any  other  man,  and  sit 
behind  or  front.  The  doctor  demurred  \  the  bishop  said  it  hurt 
his  corns  to  ride,  —  he  'd  always  rather  walk.  The  air  was 
bracing ;  clouds  all  around  us.  So  in  gaiters  and  a  sickly  sun- 
umbrella  he  charged  the  Alpine  drifts.  The  doctor  chose  his 
nag, —  a  sturdy  sorrel  mountain  mare,  with  steady  eye  and  even 
pace,  —  and  mounted  and  rode  away,  defying  fate.  The  other 
man  took  his  pick  of  the  only  animal  left,  —  a  chunky  wheel- 
horse.  He  would  n't  have  chosen  such  a  dumpy  cob  out  of  a 
dozen,  but  where  there  is  but  one  you  can  hardly  make  a  poor 
selection.  The  doctor  led.  Both  nags  were  persistently  slow. 
You  might  hurry  ;  they  would  not.  In  the  Alps  a  winter  snow- 
drift is  as  solid  as  a  turnpike.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  ride 
right  over  it.  We  had  made  this  very  road  in  twenty  feet  of 
drifted  snow  without  a  single  slump.  But  when  the  summer  sun 
gets  to  work,  and  drifts  get  soft  and  slushy,  look  out.  There  is 
bottom  somewhere,  and  you  may  find  it  sooner  than  you  like. 
The  bishop,  as  was  said,  decHned  to  ride  ;  so  he  plodded  on 
afoot,  picking  his  way  along  the  top  of  the  wayside  macadam 
piles  that  were  just  appearing  through  the  snow,  then  over  deep 
slumpy  drifts,  in  which  long  legs  were  no  advantage  ;  creeping 
along  the  gray  stone  parapets  where  the  snow  was  thin  or  gone, 
fearful  lest  he  fall  into  the  gulf  below.  The  doctor  spurred  his 
sorrel  nag  into  the  nearest  drift.  For  a  few  steps  all  went  well ; 
but  suddenly  down  went  the  sorrel  nag,  and  off  the  rider  rolled, 
declaring  he  would  ride  no  more  on  snow-drifts.  He  then  took 
up  the  bishop's  trail  and  tramped  awhile  in  snow  and  rocks. 
But  he  lacked  patience,  and  soon  returned,  declaring  the  pass 
could  not  be  made ;  we  had  better  return  and  take  the  next 


-hl^ 


A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


train,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  broken  legs  and  bruised  heads, 
up  there  among  the  clouds  and  threatening  storm. 

He  might  be  right.  "How  far  is  it  to  the  hospice?"  we 
asked  the  guide. 

"Venti  minuti,  Signore." 

Only  twenty  minutes  !     Let  us  make  it. 

That  wheel-horse  nag  had  feet  like  snow-shoes.  He  could 
walk  a  drift  with  perfect  confidence.  His  rider  was  not  a  heavy 
one,  but  it  was  the  story  of  the  last  straw  that  broke  the  camel's 
back.  The  crisis  came  ;  the  rider  made  a  vaulting  leap  and 
struck  the  snow,  all  fours  spread  out,  rolled  over,  found  his  feet 
again  all  right.  The  horse  rolled  over  too,  but,  relieved  of  his 
rider,  he  gained  his  feet  again  and  walked  the  drift  in  safety. 
Mounting  again  and  yet  again,  the  other  drifts  were  safely 
passed ;  but  alas  !  with  many  a  stumble  and  many  a  throw. 

At  last  we  reached  the  hospice,  —  a  chilly-looking  place. 
Should  we  turn  back,  or  go  ahead  ?  The  guide  declared  it  was 
better  on  ahead.  A  footman  we  had  questioned  farther  back 
declared  it  worse.  However,  the  top  was  reached,  the  rest  was 
down-hill  work,  and  off  we  started  down  the  grade.  The  drifts 
got  worse  and  worse.  The  bishop  waded  through  in  dull  de- 
spair ;  the  doctor  quit  his  saddle  ;  the  other  waited  for  results. 
They  came.  More  stranding  in  the  slumpy  drifts,  more  fearless 
vaulting  through  the  air,  more  struggling  in  the  drifted  snow. 
The  guides  got  out  the  horse  and  stood  him  up ;  but  the  rider 
drew  a  line ;  he  knew  when  he  had  had  enough,  and  swapped 
the  saddle  for  his  feet,  —  feet  already  wet  with  melted  snow, 
and  only  clad  for  city  walks. 

Drift  after  drift  barred  up  the  road  the  next  two  miles ; 
but  the  drifts  were  getting  smaller,  so  we  pushed  on,  hoping 
soon  to  meet  the  carriage  from  the  other  side.  Vain  hope- 
Now  that  the  drifts  were  past  and  gone,  big  bowlders  choked 
up  the  way.  We  had  left  our  horses  far  behind  to  struggle 
with  the  drifts,  and  kept  up  a  brisk  walk  to  keep  from  getting 
cold.  It  was  not  a  happy-looking  three ;  with  straw  hats,  wet 
feet,  and  draggled  pants;  tired  out  with  long  tussles  in  the 
snow,  and  six  miles  more  before  a  house.  Night  was  com- 
ing on,  and  sharp  hunger  had  arrived  already. 

There  are  suggestions  of  the  hereafter  all  along  these  Alpine 
roads  in  spring-time,  and  the  snow  is  not  the  worst  of  it.     The 


THROUGH  THE  ALPS.  373 

rocks  that  beetle  out  above  your  head  get  loosened  by  the 
water,  frost,  and  thaw,  and  come  tearing  down  into  the  road. 
Just  when  they  will  start,  and  whom  they  will  hit,  is  something 
for  reflection. 

But  troubles  always  have  an  end,  and  so  with  ours ;  for  turn- 
ing a  sharp  point  of  rocks  we  saw  our  carriage  farther  down, 
stopped  by  a  bowlder  of  some  forty  tons  that  had  just  dropped 
down  and  filled  the  road,  like  a  freight-car  wrecked  across  the 
track.  We  were  going  to  scold  the  driver  for  not  meeting  us 
farther  up,  but  this  suggestion  from  the  upper  crags  prevented 
it.  So  we  rode  away  to  Andermatt,  where  a  good  hot  plate  of 
soup,  a  feast  of  trout  from  a  mountain  brook,  a  good  soft  bed 
with  a  quilt  of  fluffy  down,  a  good  night's  rest,  and  something 
more  to  eat  wiped  out  our  woes  and  made  us  brave  again. 

To-day  it  was  to  be  the  Furca.  Last  night  we  vowed  not  to 
try  it ;  but  to  slip  down  past  the  Devil's  Bridge  to  Goschenen 
and  catch  the  Lucerne  train.  But  vows  made  in  pain  are  brittle 
things  and  generally  broken. 

The  Furca  is  the  loftiest  Alpine  pass  that  has  a  carriage  road, 
—  ten  thousand  feet  or  more  above  the  sea.  At  ten  o'clock  the 
carriage  waited  at  the  door  for  a  two  days'  ride  to  Brieg,  the 
railroad  terminus  of  the  Simplon  pass.  The  landlord  said  there 
were  no  snow-drifts  on  the  way, — just  what  his  Airolo  brother 
had  said  the  day  before  ;  but  we  were  warm,  well  filled,  and 
consequently  brave,  and  did  n't  mind  much  what  he  said.  This 
town  of  Andermatt  is  some  five  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
and  yet  the  grass  is  thick  and  green,  and  flowers  bloom,  and 
Nature  wears,  some  months  at  least,  a  lovely  garb.  The  herds 
and  flocks  are  numerous  ;  fine  cattle,  sheep,  and  goats,  fat  pigs 
and  poultry,  —  a  country  well-to-do.  Compare  these  heights 
with  ours  across  the  sea.  At  this  height  on  our  mountain-tops 
no  sign  of  life  appears,  scarcely  a  lichen  ;  here  are  fine  farming 
lands,  herds,  and  fields  of  r}'e,  and  abundance  of  hay  and  gar- 
den stuff. 

The  "  Devil's  Bridge  "  is  another  sample  of  the  unconquera- 
ble energ}'  of  the  engineer.  The  mountain  torrent,  the  raging 
Reuss,  gets  jammed  in  here  among  the  crowding  rocks,  and 
lashes  itself  into  a  roaring  rage,  —  dashing  about  and  leaping 
over  crags  in  hissing  spray,  sprinkling  the  bridge  that  spans  its 
foaming  flood,  then  rushing  on  below,  —  while  you  stand  awed 


374  '^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  dazed  at  what  is  at  your  feet.  The  road  is  cut  in  the  Uving 
rock  above  the  angry  flood ;  the  bridge  is  a  masterpiece. 
They  say  the  Devil  told  the  engineer  the  bridge  could  not  be 
built, —  could  not  and  should  not  be.  The  engineer  thought 
otherwise,  and  told  the  Devil  so  \  he  could  build  the  bridge, 
and  would,  in  spite  of  him.  But  to  avoid  a  constant  row,  the 
two  compromised  in  this  way  :  the  engineer  might  build  his 
bridge  in  peace ;  but  the  first  one  who  should  pass  over  it  on 
foot,  after  the  work  was  done,  should  be  the  Devil's  special 
plunder.  And  so  the  work  went  on.  When  it  was  done,  who 
was  to  be  the  first  to  pass?  No  one  volunteered.  No  wonder. 
The  man  is  rarely  found  who  wants  to  leave  this  earth,  even 
for  that  eternal  bliss  he  knows  lies  just  beyond ;  more  rarely 
one  who  would  volunteer  to  pass  the  bridge  to  an  eternal  grill. 
But  the  engineer  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  He  took  a  loaf, 
and  found  a  hungry  dog.  The  first  he  flung  across  the  bridge ; 
the  next  went  after  it.  The  Devil,  wroth  at  such  complete 
defeat,  spat  fiery  words,  but  left  the  spot,  and  never  has  re- 
turned. But  he  left  his  name  behind  —  the  daring  Devil's 
Bridge. 

•  •••••• 

Geneva,  —  a  well-known  city  upon  a  well-known  lake,  —  a 
miniature  Paris,  strongly  built,  neatly  kept,  busy,  and  orderly. 
You  see  no  loafers  on  the  streets,  and  beggars  are  unknown. 
The  crystal  Rhone  rushes  through  the  town  beneath  a  dozen 
bridges,  bearing  away  every  taint  and  smell,  keeping  the  place 
clean  and  wholesome.  Its  streets  and  shops  are  orderly,  with- 
out police  display.  Police  they  have,  no  doubt,  and  most 
efficient,  but  you  would  n't  know  it  from  any  fuss  they  make. 
The  hackmen  here  are  Swiss  ;  you  pay  them  their  just  fare, 
they  thank  you  and  drive  away.  Pay  the  London  or  Parisian 
cabman  exact  fare,  and  ten  to  one  he  '11  ask  for  more  and 
swear  if  he  does  n't  get  it.  The  streets  are  clean  and  smooth  : 
the  playgrounds,  parks,  and  people's  music-stands  are  numerous, 
full  of  shade-trees  and  banks  of  flowers.  On  Sunday  the 
shops  are  closed,  and  people  go  to  church  or  gather  in  the  gar- 
dens, ride  out  on  the  pretty  lake,  have  home  picnics,  friends,  and 
music,  —  seem  to  love  the  Lord  and  have  a  pleasant  time. 

Such  a  place  for  wine  !  To  ride  along  Geneva  shore  you 
would  think  they  thought  of  nothing  else  but  grapes  and  wine. 


THROUGH  THE  ALPS.  375 

No  other  crop  is  seen,  but  mile  on  mile  of  vineyards.  Geneva 
seems  steeped  in  wine  ;  yet  you  may  come  and  walk  its  streets  a 
week  and  see  no  drunken  man.  There  must  be  some  excess, 
abuse  of  the  long-time  habit  somewhere,  but  it  does  n't  come 
to  the  surface  ;  and  you  wonder  why  it  is  that  it  is  so ;  and 
wonder  why  our  good  Yankee  folks  at  home  have  to  be  re- 
strained by  stringent  laws,  tied  down  and  bound  with  legal 
cords  and  penalties  to  keep  them  on  the  path  of  sobriety.  Are 
people,  then,  so  different?  These  Swiss  are  flesh  and  blood 
akin  to  ours ;  they  have  tastes  and  appetites.  These  keep 
fairly  sober  all  their  lives,  and  all  their  lives  they  drink  their  beer 
and  wine.  Americans  take  it  differently,  — get  drunk  as  brutes ; 
get  into  the  cooler ;  spend  their  means  in  drunks  and  rows ; 
make  streets  a  bedlam,  home  a  hell.  Like  them,  we  worship  in 
A.  D.  and  break  the  bread  in  open  church,  baptize,  have  schools, 
and  all  of  this  and  that,  but  can't  keep  sober.  Is  it  in  the  tem- 
perament, climate,  way  of  doing  things,  or  what?  No  matter,  it 
is  so ;  and  when  or  how  the  remedy  will  come  is  past  our 
present  finding  out. 

I  rather  like  Geneva,  so  cool  and  thoughtful  and  quiet. 
Such  a  view  from  where  I  sit  and  write  !  —  a  lovely  terrace  filled 
with  flowering  shrubs  and  trees,  marked  off  by  gravel  walks, 
dotted  with  turf  and  rose-beds ;  beyond,  the  clean-kept  quay, 
and  then  the  lake,  —  the  shrubbery  and  flowers  and  trees  and 
lake  a  lovely  picture.  Beyond  the  lake,  where  swells  many  a 
lateen  sail,  are  garden  shores  and  pretty  homes  and  villages ; 
and  far  beyond,  the  higher  swells  and  hills,  and  farther  yet,  and 
glinting  in  the  sun  like  purpled  silver,  stands  forth  the  glorious 
Alpine  range,  burnished  with  perpetual  snow.  Yesterday  I  had 
a  glimpse  of  this  most  wondrous  chain.  It  seemed  the  shining 
silver  walls  of  Paradise,  the  outworks  of  the  eternal  home,  a 
plain  pictured  on  the  softest  sky,  —  the  rampart  line  of  heaven  ! 

Geneva  !  Home  of  Calvin,  Zwingle,  Necker,  Descartes,  and 
Diderot,  of  Bonnivard  and  Rousseau  ;  here  wrote  Byron,  Gib- 
bon, Madam  de  Stael,  and  scores  of  others  great  and  grand  in 
thought  and  history,  making  this  spot  immortal.  John  Calvin 
stood  upon  this  soil  and  almost  shook  the  world.  He  was  a 
giant ;  fanatic  though  he  was,  and  brooking  no  restraint,  he 
was  about  as  right  as  any  of  the  rest.  He  claimed  his  doctrine 
to  be   right,  and   dared  the  world  to  contradict.     He  found 


3/6  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Servetus  on  a  visit  here,  —  a  stranger  who  had  once  written  a 
book  that  came  in  contact  with  John  Calvin's  thought,  and  him 
he  caught  and  burned  at  the  stake.  Why  not?  It  was  the 
then  popular  way  of  arguing  a  pious  point.  If  your  adversary 
was  the  stronger,  he  burned  you  at  the  stake.  If  you  were 
stronger,  then  he  must  suffer.  All  over  Europe,  in  religious 
lines,  murder  for  opinion's  sake  was  just  and  proper.  If  our 
loving  Father  in  heaven  may  kindly  burn  nine-tenths  of  all.  His 
earthly  children  in  an  everlasting  fire,  why  might  not  His  chosen 
ministers  on  earth  indulge  themselves  that  way?  At  all  events 
they  did,  —  did  so  in  good  old  Massachusetts  a  century  after 
Calvin's  time,  and  called  it  there  the  will  of  God. 

John  Calvin  said  all  things  were  foreordained ;  that  God 
knew  everything.  You  say  the  same.  He  said  that  some  were 
saved  and  some  were  damned  whether  they  would  or  no.  You 
cannot  safely  deny  it.  His  theory  was  omniscience.  That 
destroys  free-will ;  it  made  election  sure.  Much  of  the  world 
indorsed  his  views ;  and  though  they  are  tempered  down  to  suit 
the  times,  yet,  after  all,  that  Calvinistic,  clean-cut  thought  stands 
out  before  the  world  as  clear  and  cold,  as  perfect,  icy,  bloodless, 
as  a  Mont  Blanc  crystal.  It  is  not  the  thought  of  loving 
mothers  with  tender  babes  enfolded  in  their  arms ;  it  is  not  the 
thought  of  loving  ones  and  tender  friends  and  those  who  pray 
for  all  mankind ;  but  it  was  Calvin's  thought,  fixed  on  an  omni- 
scient God.  Much  of  the  world  denies  it.  That  is  nothing : 
one  man  and  God  is  a  majority. 

Two  Sundays  since,  in  Rome,  the  stores  were  open,  trade 
was  all  agog ;  men  bought  and  sold  and  counted  loss  or  gain  as 
on  any  other  day.  They  wrought  at  building ;  carts  went  through 
the  streets  laden  with  brick  and  stone  ;  and  merchants  sold 
their  wares  as  though  the  day  were  Monday.  Here  in  Geneva 
the  shops  are  closed.  No  laden  teams  are  on  the  streets ;  no 
sound  of  trowel,  hammer,  axe  ;  only  the  drug-stores,  and  men 
who  sell  cigars  and  snuff  from  jars,  keep  open  shop.  Right  here 
a  thought.  Smith  sells  pills  and  lots  of  other  things.  Brown 
sells  boots  and  shoes.  He  can't  sell  boots  and  shoes  on  Sunday 
and  keep  his  Christian  character.  Suppose  he  puts  some  pills 
into  his  stock,  —  pills  or  cigars  or  snuff,  — he  may  keep  open 
shop  the  whole  dear  day  and  years,  for  the  pills  or  pipes  or 
snuff  or  the  cigars  will  float  him  safely  on  to  a  good  seat  beyond 


THROUGH  THE  ALPS.  377 

this  vale  of  tears.  It  is  n't  the  Sunday  working  fact  that  sends 
you  up  or  sends  you  down ;  it  is  what  you  chance  to  deal  in. 

The  clear  Rhone  rushes  from  the  lake ;  you  cross  his  rushing 
current  on  a  bridge,  —  the  one  that  leads  by  Rousseau's  Island. 
You  know  what  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  wrote,  but  you  don't  know 
what  calls  so  many  boys  and  girls,  with  wheat  and  barley,  bits 
of  bread  and  cake,  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau's  island.  Come 
with  me.  Penned  off  with  netted  wire-work,  in  the  clear,  bright 
Rhone  flood,  are  places  for  the  swans  and  ducks.  Right  there 
they  have  a  cosey  house  and  lay  their  eggs  and  hatch  their  young  ; 
and  that  their  partial  mothers  need  n't  fight,  they  are  paired  off 

—  parent  swans  and  cygnets  —  each  family  to  itself.  So  here 
the  children  come  —  gray- headed  ones  sometimes — and  toss  in 
bits  of  food,  and  watch  the  little  swans  and  ducklings  race  for 
it ;  and  watch  the  pompous  mothers  make  wry  faces  at  each 
other,  peck  at  each  other  through  the  close-meshed  wire,  as 
if  the  other  one  had  made  unkind  remarks  about  her  feathered 
little  ones.  Here,  all  day  long,  to  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau's  ver- 
dured  isle  and  spacious  bridge,  the  children  come,  the  little 
ones  with  ball  and  hoop,  the  older  ones  with  crutch  and  cane, 

—  yet  children  all,  —  to  watch  the  cygnets  and  the  swans,  the 
ducklings  and  the  ducks. 

They  are  almost  human.  The  mother  breaks  up  clumsy  food 
to  give  her  chits  a  chance.  She  takes  them  on  her  back  when 
they  are  tired,  and  folds  them  in  her  arms  —  or  wings.  She 
makes  up  faces  at  her  rivals  through  the  close-meshed  fence, 
and  is  ready  to  resent  their  curt  remarks.  That  little  swan- 
mother  over  there  is  quite  a  cripple.  One  foot  is  useless  — 
cramped  beneath  her  wing ;  yet  she  paddles  about  with  her  one 
foot,  and  minds  her  darlings,  takes  them  on  her  back,  and  scolds 
her  neighbors,  just  the  same  as  though  she  had  two  feet  instead 
of  one.  You  notice  how  the  children  favor  the  cripple-mother. 
They  flip  her  the  best  bits,  and  drop  them  nearer  that  she  and 
hers  may  not  have  far  to  go  to  get  them.  We  watch  these 
swans  and  children,  study  their  ways  and  pranks,  and  can't 
tell  which  knows  most,  —  which  are  best  pleased,  most  served, 
by  the  other's  company.  Really,  it  is  the  best  place  here  in 
Geneva,  —  the  water  deep  and  clear  ;  so  clear  that  you  can  see 
a  pin  at  ten  feet  depth  ;  so  pure  and  clear  that  every  movement 
of  cygnet's  foot  or  fish's  fin  is  clear  as  daylight ;  so  clear  that 


378  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

when  a  sinking  crumb  is  pursued  to  the  bottom  by  a  hungry 
duckling,  you  can  see  the  httle  fellow's  beak  and  eye,  and  watch 
the  motion  of  his  tiny  feet,  clear  to  the  bottom.  In  Venice  and 
Jeypore  you  may  watch  the  doves,  for  they  are  sacred  birds ; 
but  here  in  Geneva  are  swans  and  ducks.  They  have  no  pious 
character,  as  have  the  fussy  doves ;  but  in  their  acts  so  motherly 
and  good,  the  swan  of  Jupiter,  the  canard  of  the  curious  tale, 
has  your  best  sympathy. 

The  water  route  along  the  north  shore  of  Lake  Geneva  is  of 
great  beauty.  The  villages  are  numerous,  and  all  along  the 
shore  are  lovely  gardens,  grounds,  and  country-seats,  with  such 
embellishments  as  taste  and  art  and  wealth  can  provide.  To 
Geneva,  and  to  these  numerous  lakeside  resting-places,  come 
countless  people  in  the  summer  months  to  enjoy  the  coolness, 
lavish  verdure,  pure  fresh  air  and  water,  enchanting  drives  and 
boating.  No  other  place  in  Europe  has  so  many  inducements, 
in  quiet  life,  in  purity  of  earth  and  air,  in  choice  of  rooms 
and  well-cooked  food,  as  do  the  lakes  of  Switzerland.  Then 
add  to  this  the  mountain  scenes,  the  perfect  roads,  and  charming 
walks  ;  the  glaciers,  passes,  gorges,  woods ;  the  cascades,  rivers, 
tumbling  brooks ;  the  towering  heights  where  winter  reigns  su- 
preme ;  the  quiet  valleys  in  perpetual  peace.  There  is  nothing 
finer,  better,  more  satisfying  than  is  found  in  travel  here. 

There  is  fine  scenery  in  our  own  great  land,  but  not  so  well 
improved ;  it  is  more  widely  scattered,  with  greater  lack  of  this 
perfect  hotel  life,  and  at  far  greater  cost.  To  find  in  America 
the  range  of  scenery,  —  mountain,  lake,  the  dashing  stream  and 
ever  frozen  river,  —  you  must  travel  many  thousand  miles  and 
put  up  with  much  privation.  Here  it  is  in  a  nutshell,  —  Nature's 
softest  touches  and  fiercest  blows ;  her  sweetest  smiles  and  cold- 
est scowls  ;  her  choicest  flowers  and  ripest  fruits  ;  her  sparkling 
fountains  and  reddest  wine  ;  the  rustic  chapels,  bells,  and  shrines, 
—  all  here  together  in  the  wood  and  shade  and  open  land,  with 
roads  and  walks  and  homes  on  every  hand. 

Stepping  from  the  Interlaken  station  the  other  day,  the  array 
of  handsome  omnibuses  was  a  sight  to  see,  —  twenty-two  of 
them,  in  sumptuous  upholstery,  gayly  harnessed  horses,  drivers 
and  porters  clad  in  livery,  —  an  outfit  for  three  hundred  tour- 
ists, of  whom  there  were  less  than  ten.  The  great  hotel  Rit- 
schard,  famous  for  its  rooms  and  spacious  halls  and  fine  cuisine, 


THROUGH  THE   ALPS.  T^yg 

with  accommodations  for  five  hundred  guests,  had  less  than 
fifteen.  This  is  but  a  sample.  What  is  the  matter?  They  lay 
the  blame  on  Americans.  Some  twelve  or  fifteen  years  ago,  in 
the  prosperous  times  that  followed  the  close  of  the  war,  this 
land  was  overwhelmed  with  people  from  the  States.  There  was 
no  room  for  them.  They  fairly  swarmed,  and  spent  no  end  of 
money.  The  Swiss  built  hotels  on  every  street,  and  made  new 
streets  to  put  them  on.  The  highest  places  and  the  lowest,  and 
every  glacier,  lake,  and  pass  and  waterfall,  must  have  hotels, 
one  or  more,  and  fine  ones  too,  till  Switzerland  needed  but 
a  roof  to  become  itself  a  grand  hotel.  The  result  can  be  imag- 
ined. With  here  and  there  an  exception,  the  loss  is  total. 
Travel  has  greatly  fallen  off. 

So  with  cold  snows  and  dripping  clouds  we  cut  short  our  stay 
among  the  airy  Alps  and  sought  the  roily  Rhine.  But  it  was 
no  better.  The  vineyard  banks  were  green,  and  spoke  of  count- 
less flasks  of  wine  ;  the  castles  held  their  sites,  in  bad  or  good 
repair ;  the  Loreley  sirens  and  the  mountain  sprites  and  elfin 
folks  and  water-nymphs  seemed  waiting  for  the  summer.  These 
legend  folks  are  scantily  clothed,  they  say.  If  this  be  really  so, 
they  did  well  to  keep  within  their  pearly  caves  and  nooks  and 
glens,  for  it  was  biting  weather.  The  Rhine  in  later  June  should 
be  a  gem  of  comfort ;  but  now  it 's  cross  and  surly,  full  of  gusts 
and  rain  as  though  it  had  no  care  for  company.  Well,  it  is 
a  sort  of  fraud  after  all.  The  stream  cannot  be  compared  in 
interest  with  the  Danube,  Hudson,  or  Upper  Mississippi.  The 
history  that  it  has  —  the  history,  legends,  romance,  tales  of 
rapine,  ruin,  wrath,  and  social  wretchedness  —  make  up  its 
measure  of  interest.  It  is  not  what  they  see  in  the  four  hours' 
ride,  but  what  they  have  read  and  heard  or  may  imagine  about 
it,  that  gives  a  zest  to  those  who  never  come  but  once. 


380  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

POLAND   AND    RUSSIA. 

Berlin  to  Warsaw.  —  In  a  German  Sleeping-Car.  —  Crossing  the  Russian 
Frontier.  —  Passport  Abominations.  —  Farm-Lands  in  Russia.  —  The 
Problem  of  Tree- Planting.  —  Some  Suggestions  for  American  Farm- 
ers.—  Moscow,  City  of  the  Czars.  —  The  Church  the  Ruling  Power. 

—  The  Sights  of  Moscow.  —  The  Kremlin. —  Churches  and  Palaces. 

—  Off  to  St.  Petersburg.  —  A  Sleeping-Car  that  is  Better  than  Pull- 
man's.—  Czar  Peter's  Summer  Palace.  —  The  Hermitage  and  its  Art 
Displays.  —  Our  Lady  of  Kazan. —  Sunday  in  St.  Petersburg.  —  Lib- 
erty as  Expounded  by  a  Russian  Colonel. 

IF  you  ever  make  up  your  mind  to  go  to  Moscow,  change  it 
right  away.  Napoleon  wished  he  had ;  so  has  every 
traveller  since.  We  all  knew  better,  had  been  told  a  dozen 
times  by  travellers  not  to  make  the  trip  ;  but  there  are  no  fools 
like  old  fools,  so  we  bought  our  tickets,  —  Berlin  to  Warsaw ; 
Warsaw  to  Moscow,  —  call  it  a  thousand  miles.  You  never  deal 
in  miles  travelling  over  here  ;  it  is  so  many  hours.  It  does  n't 
concern  you  at  all  to  know  how  many  miles  it  may  be  from  Dan 
to  Beersheba ;  it  is  how  many  hours  it  takes  to  make  the  jour- 
ney. Distance  is  nothing ;  time  is  everything.  The  porter 
called  it  sixty  hours. 

We  started.  The  first  night's  ride — it  was  midnight  when 
the  train  got  off — was  rather  comfortable.  These  sleeping- 
cars  are  not  so  large  and  roomy,  nor  so  fine,  as  ours,  but  they 
are  full  of  sleep,  and  in  some  respects  are  better  than  ours. 
They  are  cut  up  into  compartments.  A  man  and  his  wife  may 
have  a  bed-room  to  themselves ;  parents  and  children,  state- 
rooms all  together ;  single  men  may  room  in  a  more  promiscu- 
ous manner.  The  aisle,  instead  of  running  through  the  centre 
of  the  car,  runs  along  one  side,  from  which  doors  open  into 
bed-rooms,  as  they  should.  You  sleep  athwart,  not  fore-and- 
aft,  as  on  the  Pullman  cars ;  your  beds  arc  the  genuine  article, 
—  spring  bottoms,  soft  hair  mattresses,  —  not  the  bumpy  seats 
that  you  have  sat  upon  all  day ;  your  sheets  are  snowy  linen. 


POLAND  AND   RUSSIA.  38 1 

pillows  soft  and  large ;  and  you  can  get  up  when  you  wish,  wash 
and  dress  at  leisure,  and  not  be  run  over  by  men,  women,  and 
porters,  have  your  back  thumped,  your  stomach  punched,  and 
your  toes  trod  on  by  tramping  lunatics ;  but  you  dress  in  peace, 
say  your  prayers,  and  come  out  when  you  get  ready.  It 's  not 
American,  but  your  modest  wife  or  sister  will  tell  you  it  is 
decent,  and  that  is  what  they  can  hardly  say  of  Pullman  sleep- 
ing-cars. 

At  Alexandrovo,  on  the  Russian  frontier,  trouble  began.  As 
the  train  stops,  or  just  before,  a  much-belaced  and  silver-but- 
toned man  comes  charging  through  tlie  train  in  quest  of  pass- 
ports. This  passport  business  is  a  remnant  yet  of  heathendom, 
—  required  only  by  semi-barbarians.  You  start  around  the 
world,  and  give  the  Government  five  dollars  for  a  passport.  It 
is  good  for  nothing.  You  call  on  your  consul  somewhere,  and 
get  him  to  say  something  and  stamp  something  on  it.  He  wants 
two  dollars.  Still  it  is  no  good.  The  consul  of  the  country 
you  are  going  to  honor  with  your  presence  must  put  some  more 
ink  and  seals  and  spill  some  sand  upon  it,  and  take  a  dollar 
more,  before  you  can  start.  No  first-class  country  will  ever  ask 
to  see  it ;  they  don't  fear  or  care  for  you,  —  don't  care  a  cent 
whether  you  have  a  passport  or  not.  But  come  to  poor  old 
Turkey,  get  over  into  half-civilized  Bulgaria,  or  even  try  to  enter 
Russia,  and  you  must  have  the  cleanest  kind  of  record  written 
out  and  sealed  and  stamped  and  punched  and  checked  as 
though  you  were  a  gunboat  crammed  full  of  nitro-glycerine. 
They  know  you  are  a  tramp  who  will  come  and  go  within  a 
week ;  but  men  in  lace  and  braid  and  spurs  come  nosing 
round,  grab  up  your  pass,  draw  their  pay,  and  call  it  business. 
It  is  a  drivelling  humbug,  unworthy  of  any  nation  in  time  of 
peace  or  decency ;  a  sort  of  public  plunder  by  our  State  Depart- 
ments, our  consulates,  —  ours  and  all  the  rest.  It  is  n't  much  ; 
but  any  is  too  much.  We  must  have  our  baggage  inspected  by 
all  the  Russias.  This  customs  examination  is  a  farce,  as  a  gen- 
eral thing ;  the  grips  and  trunks  must  all  be  opened,  the  con- 
dition of  your  wardrobe  exposed,  a  question  or  two  asked  in 
an  unknown  tongue,  to  which  you  always  answer,  No  !  and  the 
things  are  locked  again  ;  nothing  is  found  ;  nothing  sought  for. 
But  it  is  different  here  in  Russia.  If  you  think  there  is  any 
farce  about  it,  try  it.    They  open  all  the  trunks,  grips,  and  shawl- 


382  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Straps  ;  out  come  the  contents,  —  dry-goods,  clothing,  hardware, 
boots  and  shoes,  and  Yankee  notions,  —  everything  is  on  exhibi- 
tion. But  we  were  ready  for  them  ;  for  we  had  left  everything  but 
a  single  change  of  underwear,  some  books  and  newspapers,  till 
we  should  get  back  to  Cologne.  All  the  seditious  stuff  we  had 
was  a  number  each  of  the  Des  Moines  "  Register  "  and  the  New 
York  "  World."  These  and  a  supplement  of  the  Davenport 
"  Democrat"  the  minion  gazed  upon  with  penetrating  eye,  and 
whisked  them  into  his  private  box  for  future  reference.  It  took 
an  hour  to  do  this  much,  and  no  doubt  they  felt  repaid  for  all 
their  trouble. 

Onward  to  Warsaw,  —  capital  once  of  Poland  when  Poland 
figured  on  the  map,  but  now  a  great  flat  Russian  city  on  a 
great  fiat  space  of  ground,  devoid  of  touring  interest.  Poor  Po- 
land, —  "plane  land,"  —  once  a  powerful  nation,  then  distraught 
by  war,  now  divided  up  and  parcelled  out  among  Russia, 
Prussia,  and  Austria,  even  as  Austria  might  be  divided  up  to- 
day among  surrounding  powers ;  might  crushing  right.  She 
quarrelled  with  herself,  her  states  with  sister  states,  and  died. 

•  ■  •  •  •  •  • 

A  great,  flat,  level,  listless  country.  Mile  after  mile,  day  after 
day,  the  wheels  roll  on  through  level  regions,  level  farms,  over 
the  levellest  of  roads.  Land,  land,  land,  as  far  as  you  can  see, — 
farm-land  and  artificial  groves  ;  vast  forests  of  planted  pine  and 
spruce  and  other  trees.  The  soil  is  rather  sandy,  with  now  and 
then  a  strip  of  rich  bottom  land ;  but  everywhere  was  wheat ; 
no  end  of  wheat  and  rye  and  potatoes.  The  land  is  poor,  but 
worked  with  the  greatest  care.  No  fences  j  cattle  herded  out ; 
the  land  is  cultivated  in  long  straight  ridges,  and  not  a  weed  in 
sight.  Is  America  the  only  land  of  weeds  ?  The  Japs  will  not 
allow  them  ;  the  Chinese  farmer  hunts  them  down ;  the  India 
farmer  roots  them  out ;  the  Egyptian  has  no  use  for  them ;  and 
here  in  Europe  it  is  the  same,  —  no  weedy  roads  or  fields  or 
farms.  Why?  Because  there  is  better  farming  here.  They 
till  what  they  can  till  well.  Weeds  sap  their  soil,  the  strength  of 
which  must  be  preserved  for  raising  grain  for  daily  bread.  There 
is  a  personal  responsibility  in  it,  too  ;  for  no  one  has  a  right  to 
foul  his  own  or  yet  his  neighbors'  land.  With  poor  farming 
here  on  this  poor  soil  the  people  would  starve.  As  it  is,  they 
meet  us  in  the   market  with  their  surplus  grain,  and  undercut 


POLAND  AND    RUSSIA.  383 

our  prices.  This  land  up  here  is  cold  and  poor ;  the  various 
kinds  of  trees  have  disappeared,  only  the  slim  white  birch  re- 
maining, —  and  you  know  what  that  means  in  a  farming  sense ; 
but  they  have  many  people,  —  men,  women,  and  children  work 
upon  the  land,  with  plenty  of  horses,  sometimes  teams  of  oxen. 
Good  hay  is  raised,  and  summer  fallowing  done  ;  the  grass  lands 
are  top-dressed  after  the  hay  crop  is  removed ;  stable  manure 
and  forest  leafage  are  gathered  up  in  piles  ;  nothing  is  lost.  The 
barren  hills  and  plains  are  clad  with  forests.  Further  south  great 
tracts  of  pine  and  spruce  are  raised.  We  rob  our  land  of  all  our 
lumber  trees,  and  so  did  these  people.  Now  they  raise  their 
timber  as  they  raise  grain.  Slow  business.  Yes,  if  you  expect 
a  crop  right  off.  Let  us  see.  You  are  a  farmer,  say  thirty-five 
years  old.  Plant  out  this  year  ten  thousand  little  trees.  You 
will  get  nothing  from  them,  but  fifty  years  hence  some  one  will 
reap  a  fortune.  Don't  shake  your  head,  and  try  to  look  wise  ; 
the  world  is  doing  this  outside  of  America,  and  finds  it  profita- 
ble. The  clothing  of  the  barren  places  makes  a  better  climate, 
better  soil  all  round ;  brings  rain  and  purer  air ;  brings  wood 
for  fires  and  shelter,  and  for  making  many  things.  All  this 
you  don't  do  now ;  but  some  day  you  will,  and  the  sooner 
you  begin,  the  better  it  will  be  for  your  generations  and  your 
country. 

I  sometimes  wish  our  American  farmers  were  familiar  with 
some  of  the  ways  of  farming  here.  But  it  is  of  little  use  to 
wish  it.  If  they  knew,  they  would  not  heed.  They  laugh  at  it ; 
and  yet  their  levity  will  cost  their  descendants  very  dear.  Our 
farmers  should  see  the  industry  in  arboriculture  here.  Many 
tracts  are  too  poor  for  ordinary  crops.  What  then?  Let  them 
lie  and  run  to  sterile  weeds  and  idleness  ?  Not  so.  If  they  will 
yield  no  profitable  crop  of  food  for  man  or  beast,  they  must 
then  return  to  forestry.  Trees  are  sown  or  planted  out  and 
carefully  watched  until  they  need  no  care,  and  prove  mines  of 
wealth.  Go  about  New  England,  New  York,  Ohio,  and  many 
other  States,  and  even  Western  ones,  —  what  have  the  farmers 
done  with  the  worn-out  barren  hills?  Nothing.  When  their 
lands  could  no  longer  stand  rapacious  plundering,  they  moved 
"  out  West."  Maybe  they  did  the  same  in  this  old  land  in 
former  times  ;  but  if  they  did,  they  made  it  hard  for  those  who 
followed  them,  even  as  too  many  American  farmers  are  doing. 


384  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

We  go  on  the  theory  that  posterity  has  done  nothing  for  us, — 
then  why  bother  ourselves  about  posterity?  So,  instead  of  re- 
clothing  sterile  places,  as  they  do  here,  with  valuable  trees  that 
yield  posterity  abundant  profit,  we  let  them  go,  let  springs  dry 
up,  and  kill  off  brooks  and  rivulets,  leaving  the  land  to  barren- 
ness, while  we  go  farther  West  for  further  depredation.  We 
slay  our  lumber  tracts  as  though  each  noble  tree  were  an  active 
enemy,  an  armed  foe.  We  hew  him  down,  destroy  him  root 
and  branch,  plunder  him  of  his  raiment,  let  him  lie  and  rot, 
or  eat  his  flesh  and  blood,  without  a  thought  for  the  generations 
to  come.  But  ours  is  a  land  of  liberty.  No  law  compels  us  to 
plant  trees  and  make  the  barren  places  yield  great  wealth  ;  our 
weeds  may  grow  and  foul  our  farms  and  foul  our  neighbors',  too. 
That  is  our  firm-based  right  to  rule  and  ruin,  if  we  like.  We 
must  have  fences,  even  though  the  cost  of  fencing  takes  away 
the  farm.  If  fences  are  not  made,  how  shall  we  be  able  to  de- 
stroy our  forests  soon  enough  ?  And  unless  the  forest-trees  are 
slain,  how  should  we  be  safe  from  their  invasion?  But  the  day 
of  reckoning  w^ill  come,  and  the  greatest  pity  is  that  they  who 
made  the  score  should  escape  its  payment.  The  day  is  already 
come  when  there  is  no  West  to  go  to ;  no  more  virgin  soil 
to  cultivate  ;  no  more  moving  on  and  on  toward  the  sunset 
to  make  new  farms  and  homes.  What  then  ?  A  restless,  roving, 
nomad-farmer  race  brought  to  a  standstill !  The  noble  native 
lumber  forests  gone,  and  none  to  take  their  place ;  the  country 
robbed  of  all  its  precious  woods,  and  once  good  lands  now 
barren,  sterile,  sweltering  in  the  sun.  What  then  ?  They  must 
have  timber ;  they  must  plant  and  grow  it.  Then  why  not  do 
it  now?  Why  may  not  law  in  some  way  interfere  to  protect 
ourselves  against  ourselves  ;  to  require  the  man,  as  in  Japan,  to 
plant  two  trees  when  he  cuts  down  one,  —  two  trees  for  one, 
lest  one  might  die  in  rearing;  to  require  men  to  keep  their 
lands  free  of  noxious  weeds,  their  farms,  their  public  roads  ? 

But  all  of  this  is  very  fine,  you  say,  —  too  fine  for  sense  or  profit. 
Yes,  but  time  will  teach  you  it  is  not ;  and  that  time  is  not  now 
far  away  when  men  must  do  these  very  things  in  close  pursuit 
of  sense  and  profit,  —  even  naked  sustenance.  Why  not  heed 
this  warning  now  ?  Europe  has  had  to  heed,  —  to  plant  anew  her 
forests  ;  to  stay  her  noxious  weeds  ;  to  forego  use  of  fence,  —  of 
lumber  fence,  at  least ;  to  make  the  most  of  everything.    And  to 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  385 

this  end  a  law  severer  and  more  arbitrary  than  despot  king 
could  make  compelled  obedience.  You  may  sin  against  Dame 
Nature's  laws,  but  she  will  make  you  pay.  You  may  destroy 
her  groves  and  sap  her  goodly  soil,  but  she  will  be  avenged  on 
you  or  on  your  generations.  It  is  better  to  keep  our  country 
in  good  trim  as  we  go  on,  even  in  the  days  of  our  prosperity. 
What  we  call  liberty,  and  so  dearly  love,  is  often  only  license,  — 
something  to  avoid. 

But  if  Europe,  some  one  asks,  has  learned  so  much  in  for- 
estry and  in  care  of  lands,  why  don't  her  people  stay  at  home, 
and  not  come  flocking  to  America?  The  question  need  not  be 
answered  now.  Time  will  answer  it  very  plainly  in  American 
ears  some  day ;  that  day  when  all  our  lands  are  used ;  when  our 
deserted  lands  are  re-improved  ;  when  steep  hill-sides  are 
terraced  up  with  stone,  farm  after  farm,  and  mile  on  mile,  to 
hold  the  hard-gained  soil  in  place,  —  then  will  the  answer  come, 
as  come  it  must.  For  it  is  a  fact  in  human  history  that  the 
slower  the  living  comes,  the  faster  come  the  progeny ;  so,  then, 
look  to  the  future  for  your  certain  answer,  and  wonder  whither 
your  generations  will  flee  when  there  is  no  "out  West,"  no 
vacant  land  beyond  the  sea.  And  it  is  this  self-same  matter 
that  is  agitating  thoughtful  minds  in  Europe  now.  Where  is  the 
overplus  to  go  ?  So  Stanley  is  kept  at  work  in  far-off"  Congo 
land,  the  last  great  vacant  resource  of  the  world,  where  savagery 
may  be  displaced  with  peoples  civilized. 

But  this  is  not  the  present  question  to  which  we  should  give 
heed,  for  we  have  land  enough  for  all  our  people  for  centuries 
to  come  ;  the  question  is  how  to  preserve  its  physical  interest, 
—  to  keep  its  condition  good  as  we  go  along.  Now  don't  quote 
that  most  vicious  text,  — "  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof,"  —  but  let  us  keep  an  eye  ahead.  Let  us  have  laws  for 
needed  forestry,  and  laws  restraining  noxious  weeds.  We  are 
very  loud  and  valiant  "out  West"  about  a  patch  or  two  of 
Canada  thistles ;  but  while  our  farmers  pray  to  be  spared  that 
curse,  they  permit  whole  acres  of  weeds  to  thrive  upon  their 
own  soil ;  the  country  roads  luxuriate  in  weedy  trash,  to  the  det- 
riment of  useful  crops.  The  fences  of  our  farms  have  cost  the 
people  more  than  all  the  houses,  barns,  sheds,  and  household 
goods  that  they  enclose.  To  what  purpose?  Largely  in  the 
interest  of  weeds,  to  which  the  fencing  gives  abundant  shade 

25 


386  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  shelter.  Largely  in  the  interest  of  lawlessness,  or  that  con- 
dition which  compels  a  man  to  stand  the  expense  of  fencing,  even 
though  he  has  nothing  of  his  own  to  fence  against.  They  do  bet- 
ter here.  If  a  farmer  has  stock,  he  must  take  care  of  it.  That 
is  his  own  affair,  not  his  neighbors'.  This  is  equity.  If  Smith 
has  cattle  for  his  own  profit,  why  should  Brown,  who  has  no 
cattle,  be  obliged  to  help  take  care  of  Smith's  ?  Smith  must  fence 
in  or  herd  his  own  cattle  ;  and  when  he  takes  them  to  market, 
must  Brown  and  all  the  rest  for  forty  miles  along  the  way  keep 
up  good  strong  road  fences  that  Smith's  cattle  may  not  eat  up 
their  crops?  Nonsense!  Costly  nonsense,  too!  It  may  be 
good  for  lumbermen  and  iron  mills,  but  it  wrecks  more  than  it 
builds,  and  the  day  must  come  to  us  when  farmers,  as  here, 
will  each  have  to  look  out  for  his  own  stock,  and  when  fence- 
less farms  will  be  cultivated  close  to  the  gutters  of  the  country 
roads.  Why  not  accept  the  inevitable  now,  —  let  such  build 
fence  as  need  it?  Steps  to  this  end  have  some  time  since  been 
taken  in  some  of  the  States,  but  they  are  too  few  and  slow. 

•  •  •  •  •  .  • 

Railroading  in  Russia,  as  to  time,  is  a  little  dull.  Fifteen 
to  twenty  miles  an  hour  are  the  slowest  and  the  fastest  times. 
But  the  roads  are  excellent,  —  well  ironed,  smooth,  and  no 
doubt  safe.  The  average  European  road  is  much  better  than 
the  average  American  road,  in  its  bridges,  bed,  and  general  con- 
struction. The  engines  are  much  the  same,  the  freight-cars 
also  ;  our  passenger  equipments  average  better,  though  some 
conditions  here  we  might  adopt  with  comfort.  They  don't  ac- 
commodate as  well  in  domestic  ways,  but  this  feature  is  being 
improved.  The  railroad-station  cooking  is  better  here  than  in 
the  States,  as  a  general  thing ;  yet  our  dining-car  system  is  far 
ahead  of  anything  they  dream  of  here.  But  that  is  coming  ;  and 
dining-cars,  in  ten  or  twenty  years,  will  be  on  every  road.  Some 
days  ago  we  found  a  good  dining-car  on  the  Oriental  Express 
that  is  operated  by  a  French  company  between  Constantinople 
and  Paris  ;  good  dining-cars  and  sleepers.  Next  year,  they 
say,  on  this  long  Moscow  line  they  will  run  sleepers,  and  are 
building  them  now.  So  the  world  moves,  and  America  gives  it 
some  of  its  impetus. 

The  roads  out  here  make  more  account  of  human  life  and 
safety  than  in  America.     No  one  gets  killed  or  hurt  in  coupling 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  l"^"] 

cars ;  no  lives  are  lost  at   crossings.     Accidents   will    happen 
everywhere,  but  here  they  are  rare. 

Two  days  by  Russian  train.  Five  times  each  day  the  train  is 
sure  to  stop  for  twenty,  thirty,  forty  minutes,  and  many  a 
shorter  time  between  ;  and  everywhere  the  tables  were  set  forth 
with  snowy  cloth  and  china  plates  and  silver  things,  and  plenty 
of  eatables,  —  the  best  of  meats  and  snowy  bread,  fresh  garden 
stuff,  and  well-made  soups  and  gravies.  Indeed,  we  lived  like 
lords.  The  train  was  rather  slow,  the  landscape  rather  dull ;  but 
the  stated  meals  and  quiet  lunches  between,  with  German  beer 
and  vodka  interspersed,  —  we  never  lived  better.  And  then  at 
these  and  other  stops  came  pretty  little  girls  in  bright  print 
frocks  and  rosy  cheeks  and  dancing  eyes,  with  plates  and  cornu- 
copias well  rounded  up  with  fresh  wild  strawberries,  all  hulled 
and  full  of  racy  flavor,  —  that  flavor  you  remember  as  a  farmer's 
lad  when  you  went  strawberrying  in  bright  New  England  fields. 
There  is  nothing  like  it  in  the  wide  world  !  Your  garden  fruits 
are  very  large  and  fair  and  fine ;  but  to  the  lips  of  one  New 
England  born  and  bred,  no  strawberry  so  suits  the  taste,  sends 
such  aroma  to  the  nose,  as  those  that  grow  and  ripen  on  Vermont 
hills  that  face  the  sun. 

Now  where  is  Afoscow?  St.  Paul  is  perhaps  forty-five  de- 
grees —  Moscow  sixty-one  or  two  —  way  up  toward  the  mid- 
night sun,  where  you  may  work  till  eight  o'clock,  and  eat  and 
read  your  evening  paper  this  time  of  year  till  half-past  ten.  We 
came  on  here  from  Warsaw  by  slow  creeping  train,  through  a 
continuous  farm  of  grass  and  wheat,  potatoes,  planted  forests  ; 
past  well-dressed  farming  folk,  fine  horses,  cows,  and  sheep  and 
steers ;  through  many  a  low-browed  village  built  up  around  a 
bulbous  spire  and  green-roofed  hall  and  church. 

You  hear  of  serfs  and  farmers'  toil  in  this  land  of  the  Czar. 
Don't  sympathize  too  much  ;  don't  waste  your  sympathy  on  far- 
off  foreigners  till  you  have  none  for  home.  Too  many  people 
save  their  dimes  and  tears  for  those  in  foreign  lands,  —  the 
greater  the  distance,  the  more  intense  the  blessing  ;  but  you 
may  safely  save  your  dimes  and  prayers  and  tears  for  those  that 
sin  and  starve  at  home.  You  may  think  it  very  good  and  full 
of  saving  grace  to  send  the  word  afar  to  heathen  hearts  and 
lands  ;  but  were  it  not  better  that  every  cent  you  have  to  spare 


388  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  every  tear  you  have  to  shed  were  spared  and  spent  and 
shed  and  wiped  away  in  words  of  help,  in  deeds  of  charity,  at 
home?  You  know  where  charity,  the  greatest  of  all  good 
gifts,  begins,  —  at  Home,  that  biggest  word  in  all  the  world, 
and  best  entitled  to  that  initial  capital.  Then  keep  your  charity 
at  Home.  Don't  mind  the  poor  in  other  lands  till  you  have  no 
poor  at  Home.  Don't  mind  the  erring  far  away  till  no  one  errs 
at  Home.  Don't  mind  the  resurrection  day  with  Bengalese  or 
Hottentots  until  you  are  sure  that  Gabriel's  trump  will  find  no 
sinner  on  your  soil.  Remember  your  neighbors  —  those  within 
your  ward  or  town  —  and  give  them  clothes  to  wear,  and  bread. 

But  this  is  Moscow,  on  the  Moskowa.  In  1812  Napoleon 
came  to  Moscow.  We  took  Napoleon's  route,  almost  as  slow 
as  he,  and  quite  as  sure  of  coming  to  the  Kremlin  gates.  We 
saw  his  tracks  at  Minsk  and  Smolensk  ;  went  past  the  monument 
raised  on  Borodino's  field,  some  seventy  miles  from  here,  —  the 
monument  and  gilded  cross  where  fifty  thousand  men  went 
down  to  death  ;  where  eighty  thousand  men  and  horses  were 
burned  to  ashes  on  that  dreadful  September  day  in  181 2,  after 
the  routed  Russians  had  given  up  all  hope  of  saving  house  and 
home  in  Moscow. 

Oh,  what  a  day  was  that  !  How  those  couriers  dashed  their 
foaming  horse  to  these  gates  and  shrines  to  bid  the  waiting  ones 
to  gather  friends  and  goods,  and  hasten  to  the  lands  and  wilds 
beyond  ;  out  to  the  far-off  plains,  out  quick  among  the  dunes 
and  birchen  glens  and  steppes,  — anywhere  to  seek  a  shelter  from 
the  fiend  of  France  who  had  won  the  field  that  awful  day. 
Borodino  !  How  the  heart  of  Russian  sank  !  How  he  girded 
tight  his  coat ;  how  he  gathered  what  he  could ;  how  he  gave 
up  house  and  home,  a  sacrifice  to  country  and  to  God,  and 
found  his  way  across  the  star-lit  plains  ! 

The  city  is  built  up  again.  A  million  souls  now  walk  these 
streets  ;  six  hundred  churches  point  to  heaven ;  twelve  thousand 
priests  will  tell  you  why  the  Frank  was  beaten  and  sent  back  limp- 
ing to  his  home.  You  come  to  Moscow  by  the  rail,  —  this  old- 
time  city  of  the  czars  ;  you  find  long,  roughly  paved  streets, 
lined  with  low  houses  built  of  stuccoed  brick, — a  million  people 
without  water-works;  a  million  people  with  no  pleasant  streets; 
a  million  people  just  breaking  through  the  crust  that  covers 
up  nomadic  life ;  two   hundred   million   people  coming  forth 


POLAiYD  AND  RUSSIA.  3 89 

from  out  the  realm  of  pagandom.  Britain  is  strong  but  old ; 
she  has  not  in  a  full  century  won  a  full  victory  alone  ;  Austria  is 
old,  shines  by  reflected  light ;  the  German  realm  is  powerful, 
but  seeks  an  ally  when  she  thinks  of  Russian  hordes ;  nay,  all 
this  European  world  fingers  the  Russian  map  with  bated  breath, 
wondering  what  will  be  the  outcome  when  from  the  north  comes 
down  the  Russian  avalanche. 

The  streets  of  Moscow  are  much  like  those  of  any  other  place, 

—  wide,  airy,  paved  with  round  river  stones,  that  hurt  your  feet 
clear  through  your  shoe-soles,  and  make  both  you  and  horses 
limp.  The  walks  that  skirt  the  streets  are  not  too  wide  or 
smooth,  —  better  perhaps  than  none,  —  and  men  and  women 
flatten  out  against  the  wall  to  let  you  pass  along. 

"Why  don't  you  people  pave  these  streets?"  was  asked  a 
Russian  who  spoke  our  tongue. 

"Why  don't  we  do  it?  Must  we  not  build  fine  churches? 
Must  not  our  taxes  —  millions  every  year  —  go  to  build  up  the 
Church?  Who  owns  this  property?  The  Church.  Who  owns 
this  hotel,  this  restaurant,  and  all  you  see  about  you  ?  The 
Church.  Who  owns  three  fourths  of  Moscow ;  two  thirds  of 
Russia?  The  same,  same  Church,  and  holds  it  in  her  grasp. 
Who  pays  the  taxes  ?  Not  the  Church.  Who  is  to  give  us  streets 
well  paved,  and  light,  and  water-works?  No,  not  the  Church. 
Who  is  to  give  us  progress  and  enlightenment  ?  No,  not  the 
Church.  The  Church  has  got  this  city,  —  this  and  all  Russia. 
This  Moscow  has  six  hundred  churches.  They  must  be  kept 
up,  and  all  the  priests  and  days  of  prayer  and  feasts  and  fasts 
and  all  the  patron  saints.  Go  see  the  most  expensive  single 
house  in  all  Moscow,  —  the  foundling  hospital  1  This  is  a  city 
owned  by  Church  and  priest,  —  no  water  for  the  masses,  — 
crowded  with  churches  and  with  dens  of  sin  and  shame  ;  and 
this  is  Moscow  !  " 

Moscow  is  the  olden  city  of  the  czars.  Here  they  come 
to-day  —  here  to  the  Kremlin,  here  to  the  Annunciation  Church 

—  to  get  their  regal  crowns.  Why  not  be  crowned  at  the  capital  ? 
The  Church  says  loudly.  No  !  Come  here  and  kneel  and  here 
be  crowned,  or  you  shall  be  no  emperor.  The  Church  is  stronger 
than  the  State.  The  Church  has  wealth,  the  State  has  only 
debts  ;  the  Church  is  triumphant  here  in  Russia,  and  all  that  say 
it  nay  are  naught. 


390  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Some  day  the  State  will  rise,  —  even  as  it  did  in  England  in 
Henry  the  Eighth's  time  ;  sometime  the  State  will  rise,  as  it  has 
done  in  Germany,  has  done  in  France,  and  later  on  in  Italy ; 
sometime  the  word  must  pass  along  the  armored  line,  —  "  Shall 
State  or  Church  stand  first?  "  You  know  the  answer  States  and 
troops  have  made.  Hark  for  it  here,  where  State  is  last  and 
Church  stands  first ;  where  the  wealth  is  hoarded  in  ecclesial 
vaults,  and  holy  days  consume  the  whole  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five.  Russia  is  growing,  none  the  less.  People  are  getting 
thoughts  they  call  their  own,  and  in  time  the  change  so  needed 
will  surely  come,  and  Russia  will  be  free.  Serf  slavery  died  in 
Alexander  the  Second's  day;  that  other  yet  more  crushing 
slavery  will  surely  follow  it. 

What  are  the  sights  of  Moscow?  A  great  bronze  cannon  that 
cannot  be  fired,  and  a  monster  bell  that  cannot  be  rung.  The 
former,  weighing  forty  tons,  is  here  for  you  to  crawl  into ;  was 
here  before  the  Pilgrims  sailed,  —  its  deep,  wide-open  mouth 
forever  dumb.  Do  you  remember  Webster's  spelling-book  that 
used  to  bother  our  curly  pates,  and  kept  us  all  too  near  the  foot  of 
that  hated  daily  spelling-class?  Among  its  many  one-line  state- 
ments you  may  have  clung  to  this  :  "  The  great  bell  of  Moscow 
weighs  two  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds."  The 
school-book  undertold  the  fact,  —  it  weighs  four  hundred  and 
forty-four  thousand  pounds,  or  two  hundred  and  twenty-two 
tons.  It  rests  upon  a  stout  stone  base,  through  which  you  enter 
by  a  door.  The  dome  above  your  head  is  twenty  feet.  The 
bell  was  hung,  they  say,  but  fell  and  broke  a  fragment  from  its 
rim.  The  fragment  weighs  eleven  tons,  and  shows  a  thickness 
of  two  feet.  The  greatest  circumference  is  sixty-eight  feet ;  its 
height  twenty-six  feet  and  four  inches. 

The  other  sights  consist  of  churches,  palaces,  and  treasured 
things  within  the  Kremlin.  Ktcm  is  the  Russian  word  for  "  fort," 
and  Moscow  was  an  old-time  fort  stoutly  walled.  Here  were 
the  palaces,  churches,  the  troops  and  arsenals  with  ready  arms 
for  two  hundred  thousand  men,  —  the  heart  of  Russia  within  two 
miles  of  wall,  rebuilt  in  1492  to  defend  the  place  against  re- 
cently invented  artillery.  Here  lived  the  czars,  priests,  generals, 
and  soldiers.  Here  within  the  holy  church  was  all  the  treas- 
ure ;  here,  too,  were  people  judged  and  executions  held ;  here 
was  the  heart  and  central  strength  of  Russia.     As  the  city  grew, 


POLAND   AND  RUSSIA.  39I 

great  outer  walls  were  added,  but  the  old  Kremlin  walls  were 
kept  intact ;  and  now,  as  you  enter  there  through  the  great 
Redeemer  Gate  beneath  the  emblems  of  the  Church,  remove 
your  hat,  even  as  the  emperors  do,  and  all  his  subjects,  —  all 
who  visit  here.  You  would  not  do  it  ?  Then  stay  outside  ;  no 
one  has  asked  you  to  enter  ;  but  if  you  would  go  in,  observe  the 
custom.  Observe  the  customs  everywhere.  If  you  invite  your- 
self to  call  upon  the  Pope,  kneel  unto  him  and  take  his  blessing. 
If  you  would  not  kneel  to  him,  or  here  within  the  Gate  of  the 
Redeemer  of  Smolensk  remove  your  hat,  then  stay  away. 

The  palace  here  is  very  grand,  has  many  rooms  and  lofty  halls 
aglow  with  polish,  glass,  and  gold.  To  take  you  through  these 
halls  and  rooms  and  corridors  would  be  to  tra\el  miles  and  miles 
and  write  for  months  and  months.  They  cover  many  acres,  are 
filled  with  furniture  and  curious  things  ;  with  beds  and  bedding, 
costly  inlaid  floors,  arabesques  and  gilded  work ;  with  carvings, 
tiles,  armorial  shields.  There  are  great  stables,  carriages,  and 
luxurious  outfits  of  all  sorts  ;  a  winter  garden  far  above  the 
street,  luxuriant  in  palm  and  vine  and  exuberant  tropic  plants, 
aglow  with  tropic  heat  here  in  this  frozen  realm,  — a  play-room 
for  the  queens,  who  seldom  visit  it,  —  all  this  for  the  imperial 
home,  but  very  rarel)'  occupied.  The  treasury  is  filled  with 
countless  priceless  gems,  with  crowns  and  sceptres,  hilts  and 
orbs  and  jewelled  clothes,  that  here  are  gathered  to  form  a 
museum.  A  czar  is  crowned ;  his  crown  and  sceptre  and  all 
his  costliest  clothes  and  gems  find  lodgement  here.  Even  the 
coronation  clothes  of  the  czar  and  the  czarina  are  worn  but  once, 
then  hung  up  here  to  be  looked  at  through  the  ages.  Here  in 
this  regal  show  are  many  a  costly  coach  and  imperial  sledge, 
built  for  the  coronation  pageant,  to  be  used  no  more.  There 
is  no  end  of  costliest  luxury,  of  which  you  soon  tire,  and  wish 
for  something  good  and  plain. 

Here  in  the  Kremlin  churches  lie  the  royal  bones  of  all 
the  czars  and  their  wives  down  to  Great  Peter's  day,  —  here 
stored  away  in  great  stone  coffins  cumbering  the  floor,  over- 
cast with  purple  velvets  trimmed  with  golden  stuffs ;  fenced 
in  with  gilded  posts  and  rails  ;  waiting  in  royal  state  amidst  the 
masses  of  the  church,  among  the  relics  of  the  shrines,  among 
the  pictures  of  the  saints,  —  waiting  in  golden  state  the  judg- 
ment day.     Most  people  have  ceased  to  bury  human  beings  in 


392  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  public  shrines,  but  here  they  do  just  as  was  done  in  days 
of  yore.  This  old-time  practice  of  burying  in  churches  was 
the  effect  of  ignorant  superstition  influenced  by  priests,  who 
pretended  that  the  Devil  would  have  power  over  bodies  not 
buried  in  or  very  near  the  church ;  the  nearer  the  altar  the 
safer.  Nor  have  we  yet  done  consecrating  graveyards,  even 
though  it  is  deemed  quite  safe  to  bury  away  from  crypt  and 
shrine.  These  monarchs  are  the  Greek  Church  popes,  —  agents 
of  heaven  upon  the  earth  to  do  the  will  of  God.  Their  word 
is  absolute.  They  have  in  their  hands  the  nation's  laws  to 
make  or  break  at  will ;  have  in  their  hands  the  fullest  power, 
coming  to  them  as  a  divine  right.  You  don't  believe  such 
things,  —  not  of  present  kings,  —  it 's  not  your  interest  to.  We 
can  believe  that  Saul  and  Solomon  and  the  old  biblical  barbaric 
Jewish  kings  were  really  called  of  God  to  rule  and  have  no  end 
of  power  and  gold  and  wives ;  but  we  have  to  draw  the  line 
somewhere,  and  we  draw  it  before  we  come  to  Russian  days. 

The  churches  here  are  miracles  of  the  jeweller's  art.  Here 
in  the  Church  of  the  Assumption  is  Mt.  Sinai  in  pure  gold  ; 
the  picture  of  Virgin  Mary  painted  by  Saint  Luke  on  wax,  and 
studded  with  a  quarter  million  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds,  — 
picture  of  miraculous  power,  they  say.  This  Bible  weighs  a 
hundred  pounds,  so  weighed  down  is  it  with  precious  stones. 
This  nail  is  from  the  true  cross  ;  this  scrap  of  woollen  rag  is  from 
the  garment  worn  by  Christ  on  crucifixion  day ;  this  hand  was 
Andrew's,  the  apostle.  Embedded  within  the  cross  of  gold  is  a 
bit  of  the  wood  of  the  cross  of  Calvary ;  and  here  the  skull  of 
Demetrius,  almost  worn  through  with  kisses ;  and  farther  on 
thirty-two  gilded  silver  caskets  containing  saintly  relics.  The 
chrism  process  may  interest  you.  Chrism  is  holy  oil.  It  is 
made  in  silver  kettles,  stirred  with  silver  ladles,  dipped  with 
silver  dippers,  strained  with  silver  strainers.  The  entire  silver 
outfit  used  in  making  this  consecrating  oil  weighs  about  seven 
tons  !  The  pious  stuff  is  made  of  gums  and  wine  and  oils  well 
spiced,  made  by  priestly  hands,  and  stored  in  silver  jugs.  To 
make  it  holy  they  take  some  of  the  same  oil  that  Mary  poured 
upon  the  Saviour,  —  some  of  which  had  been  saved,  —  take  it 
from  a  long-necked  copper  vase,  and  stir  it  in.  This  sanctifies 
the  entire  batch.  To  keep  the  original  supply  intact,  they 
return  to  the  pearl-encrusted  copper  vase  as  many  drops  as  were 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  393 

taken  out ;  and  so  the  quantity,  purity,  and  efficiency  are  forever 
maintained,  —  and  tlie  attenuation  tlieory  vindicated.  This  oil 
consecrates  everything,  —  czars,  crowns,  every  baptized  Russian 
subject.  It  is  made  every  two  years  during  Lent,  and  distributed 
far  and  near.     The  custom  is  older  than  history. 

The  domes  without,  the  altars  within,  altars  and  shrines, 
columns  and  coffins,  abound  in  beaten  gold.  Gold  wrought  in 
endless  shapes  —  gold  counted  by  the  hundred  pounds  —  up 
over  the  dome  and  under  the  domes  of  this  Saint  Saviour's 
church,  built  here  by  way  of  thanks  to  God  for  the  victory  in 
18 1 2  over  the  troops  of  France  —  greets  you  from  miles  away  as 
you  approach  this  Moscow  town.  The  first  thing  you  see  in 
the  bright  sunlight,  coming  across  the  plain,  is  this  sharp  glint 
and  gleam,  —  a  costly  diadem  suspended  in  the  air ;  a  reful- 
gent corona.  What  makes  it  so  ?  You  see  no  gleam  like  this 
from  the  gilded  State  House  dome  of  Iowa,  —  only  a  dull  glare. 
But  this  is  different.  The  State  House  gilding  is  very  thin 
and  plain.  These  domes  -we  see  —  you  may  stand  upon  the 
lowest  and  count  them  by  the  scores  —  are  of  thick  plates,  and 
burnished  till  they  gleam  like  finest  poHshed  jewelry,  dazzling 
your  eyes.  This  out-door  golden  wealth  is  here  prodigious.  To 
gild  Saint  Saviour's  dome  took  half  a  ton  of  pure  gold  ! 

The  whole  church  is  a  gleaming  glory  of  pohshed  granite, 
marbles,  costly  malachite,  and  lapis  lazuli ;  masses  of  finest  por- 
phyry, such  as  is  sparingly  used  in  Roman  churches  ;  masses 
of  Finland  granite ;  columns  of  Siberian  verde  antique ;  black 
marbles  of  the  finest  grain,  light  violet  and  gold-lined  grays, 
with  altar  work  of  pure  Carrara  white.  These  regal  stones 
mount  arch  on  arch,  the  columns,  walls,  the  arches,  piers,  and 
floors  agleam  with  polishing.  The  pious  pictures  of  the  Al- 
mighty, of  the  Saviour,  saints,  and  sacred  scenes  of  heaven  and 
earth,  are  works  of  hands  most  skilled.  You  move  about  mid 
golden  bronze  and  silver,  mid  gems  and  things  most  choice 
and  rare,  —  all  stone  and  metal,  not  a  piece  of  wood  in  all  the 
work.  The  church  is  not  large  like  great  St.  Peter's  church  at 
Rome,  yet  it  cost  twenty  millions,  and  is  the  finest  in  all  this 
land  of  costly  shrines ;  the  finest  in  the  world,  they  say. 

These  Moscow  streets  are  rough  enough,  but  kept  clean  and 
rather  tidy.  Fine  horses  wait  on  every  hand,  with  trim  four- 
wheeled  droskies,  to  pull  you  round  pell-mell,  one  or  two  horses 


394  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

abreast,  three  if  you  like  ;  our  first  ride  gave  us  four,  —  four 
spanking  dappled  grays  abreast ;  a  noble  span  each  side  the 
carriage  pole  ;  the  gear  agleam  with  silver  saddlery.  A  landau 
team  you  may  have  all  day  for  the  same  price  you  would  pay 
for  an  hour's  drive  at  home ;  but  here  in  Moscow  the  Kremlin 
has  nearly  all  you  care  to  see,  and  that  is  too  near  to  need  a 
carriage.  Street-cars  have  got  out  here,  electric  lights,  and  tele- 
phones ;  and  in  most  things  you  are  quite  at  home,  —  in  most 
things  except  the  language.  Hotels  are  fairly  good,  prices  not 
high ;  indeed,  one  may  live  at  the  best  for  three  dollars  a  day, 
outside  of  extra  luxuries. 

St.  Petersburg  is  sixty  degrees  north.  The  sun  rises  at  half- 
past  one  and  sets  at  half-past  nine.  The  twilight  of  the  even- 
ing meets  that  of  the  morning  so  closely  that  darkness  is 
unknown.  People  go  to  bed,  to  be  sure ;  but  if  they  would 
enjoy  a  pleasant  evening  they  must  not  retire  for  the  night  until 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  by  that  time  the  sun  has 
been  up  an  hour  and  a  half.  A  good  night's  rest  is  a  thing  un- 
known in  summer. 

But  the  winter  cometh.  Extremes  beget  extremes.  The 
greatest  thieves  have  sprung  from  honest  parents ;  and  honey 
and  venom  come  from  the  same  bloom.  In  winter  the  sun 
retires  at  half-past  three,  or  so,  and  gets  up  at  half-past  nine  or 
ten.  His  rising  is  a  mere  matter  of  form,  —  not  staying  up 
long  enough  to  make  much  of  a  stir  in  the  world.  People 
have  to  burn  the  candle  at  both  ends  —  of  the  day,  and  fumble 
about  in  the  dark  a  good  deal  at  that.  But  the  winter  is  the 
gay  time  in  Russia,  —  the  gala  season  in  the  cities  ;  the  time 
of  ice  and  snow,  rides,  routs,  and  merry-making.  The  theatres 
are  in  full  blast ;  the  skaters  and  coasters  and  sleighing-parties, 
with  fun  and  shouts  and  jingling  bells,  are  all  agog  in  the  bright 
dry  cold  of  this  silvery  northland.  Summer  is  no  time  to 
come  to  Russia  seeking  sport,  for  the  muses  pack  their  trunks 
and  get  away  to  Paris  and  London  about  the  first  of  April. 
But  they  leave  the  Hermitage  behind,  St.  Isaac's  and  the  Ma- 
donna of  Kazan,  —  thanks  for  that. 

Moscow  is  four  hundred  miles  away.  The  road  is  very 
straight  and  smooth  ;  you  will  never  find  a  better  one.  The 
time  is  not  so  fast,  but  you  glide  so  smoothly  on  and  sleep  so 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  395 

softly  on  the  train  that  you  don't  much  mind  the  fifteen  hours 
or  so.  This  is  a  government  road.  It  is  said  of  the  Czar,  that 
after  looking  at  the  survey,  he  asked  his  engineer  why  he  had 
made  the  line  so  crooked.  He  was  told  that  it  ran  so  as  to 
accommodate  the  towns  between  terminal  points,  —  St.  Peters- 
burg and  Moscow.  The  Czar  took  down  his  map,  picked  up  a 
rule  and  pencil,  drew  a  line  straight  from  point  to  point,  and 
said,  "  That  is  the  line  to  build  the  road  upon.  If  other 
towns  want  to  use  my  road,  let  them  come  to  it."  This  is  the 
story  as  I  heard  it  forty  years  ago.  Perhaps  it  is  n't  true  ;  but 
the  road  is  really  very  straight  and  very  smooth,  and  makes 
you  feel  at  perfect  ease.  It  was  built  by  the  Winanses  of 
Baltimore,  and  the  road  and  stations  and  the  cars  are  surely 
very  fine.  The  first-class  express  costs  fifteen  dollars,  includ- 
ing state-room  and  sleeping-car;  about  the  same  as  on  our 
American  lines  for  like  accommodations. 

I  may  have  said  it  before,  but  will  say  it  again  by  way  of 
accent,  underscored,  that  these  Russian  sleepers  are  better  than 
our  Pullmans,  in  almost  every  w'ay.  They  are  much  lighter. 
They  are  more  comfortable  as  riding  coaches,  having  easier 
seats  and  backs.  They  are  in  compartments,  for  two  or  four, 
arranged  with  doors  between  the  single  rooms  as  hotel  bed- 
rooms are.  The  beds  are  softer,  and  are  not  made  upon  the 
seat  you  've  sat  on  all  the  day ;  but  the  seat  revolves  on  central 
pivots,  and  when  the  bed  is  made,  the  side  you  sat  on  goes 
down  underneath ;  the  under  side,  a  nice  spring-bottom,  comes 
on  top,  on  which  a  nice  hair  mattress  is  spread,  with  snowy 
linen,  pillows  large  and  soft,  and  thick  warm  blankets,  if  you 
please.  The  broad  thick  cushion,  that  in  the  day-time  forms 
the  back  of  your  sumptuous  seat,  springs  overhead  and  forms 
the  basis  for  the  upper  berth. 

Now  go  to  bed.  The  door  is  closed,  you  have  the  room  to 
yourself.  How  to  get  into  the  upper  berth  ?  Rush  out  and  call 
the  porter  to  bring  his  dirty  step-ladder,  — leave  his  work  and 
bring  it  quick?  Not  at  all.  You  see  the  neat  little  table  at  the 
head  of  the  lower  bed?  It  is  for  coffee,  to  write  upon,  or  play 
cards  or  dominoes.  Fold  its  two  leaves,  bringing  each  on  top  ; 
pull  out  two  sliding-steps  below,  —  there  is  your  clean  carpeted 
step-ladder ;  up  you  go,  and  off  to  bed  and  sleep.  It  stays 
there  to  walk  down  upon,  and  when  quite  out  of  use  you  push 


395  A    GIRDLE  ROUAW    THE  EARTH. 

it  in  through  slots  to  the  corner,  out  of  the  way.  The  car 
is  comfortable,  decent,  healthy.  All  drafts  are  cut  off;  the 
passage-way  is  along  the  side,  not  in  the  middle  of  the  car ;  and 
passengers  may  come  and  go,  —  you  are  not  bothered  by  them. 
At  either  end  of  the  well-lighted  passage  are  ample  toilet- 
rooms,  with  all  conveniences. 

You  may  not  care  to  ride  in  a  close  compartment  car  during 
the  day  ;  you  may  want  to  see  those  who  come  aboard  or  leave, 
to  have  the  doors  flying  open  at  your  back,  to  have  people 
crowd  by  you  with  bundles,  grips,  umbrellas,  canes  ;  you  would 
be  near  the  peanut  fiend,  and  have  him  poking  stale  stuff  and 
fruit  beneath  your  nose  full  forty  times  a  day,  or  loading  down 
your  seat  with  printed  trash  called  books  by  courtesy.  You 
rather  like  all  this,  perhaps ;  but  when  night  comes  on  you  would 
much  prefer  to  go  off  by  yourself,  and  shut  the  door,  and  shade 
the  lights,  and  having  none  to  tramp  your  toes  or  punch  your 
ribs,  or  drag  your  curtains  round,  get  leisurely  into  bed,  away 
from  squalls  and  sleepless  folks  who  sit  and  talk  and  talk,  and, 
like  a  Christian,  go  right  off  to  sleep. 

You  need  not  say,  unless  you  like,  that  this  is  not  American. 
Perhaps  not,  but  it  is  truth.  We  have  good  things  in  America, 
and  intend  to  have  more.  We  have  ways  that  ai-e  very  good, 
and  those  that  can  be  improved  upon.  We  know  a  good  deal, 
but  fail,  just  now,  to  know  it  all ;  so  the  proper  thing  to  do  is 
to  admit  such  faults  as  we  know  we  have,  and  try  to  reform 
them.  There  are  other  thinking  inventors  besides  ourselves, 
and  the  fruit  of  their  thought  should  be  gathered  in  by  us,  even 
though  it  may  oust  some  of  our  preconceived  opinions.  Let 
our  sleeping-car  service  be  improved.  Let  it  be  made  more 
comfortable,  more  decent.  We  pay  roundly  for  it;  why  not 
have  the  best? 

St.  Petersburg  is  the  Chicago  of  northwestern  Europe, — a 
new  city,  planted  by  the  waters  and  sprouted  in  the  mud,  even 
as  Chicago  was.  Its  streets  are  wide  and  fine  and  airy.  Every- 
thing is  new.  More  than  a  century  ago  Peter  the  Great,  Peter 
the  Terrible,  Peter  the  inhuman  brute  and  heartless  monster, 
founded  it.  Here  he  came  from  his  Moscow  capital,  —  well- 
nigh  a  barbarian,  —  to  fish  here  in  these  northern  waters  ;  to 
fish  and  hunt  among  lagoons  and  swamps.  Here  he  built 
his  fishing  hut,  —  his  cottage  by  the  water-side,  the  same  you 


POLAND  AXD  RUSSIA.  397 

see  to-day  ;  here  built  his  summer  palace  just  across  the  stream, 

—  a  sort  of  square  two-story  house,  with  twelve  rooms  down 
and  twelve  rooms  up,  including  prison-pen  for  his  recreant  gen- 
erals, throne-room  where  he  held  his  court,  and  the  kitchen 
where  the  empress  wife  prepared  her  husband's  soups  and 
steaks.  Here  are  the  never-covered  floors  of  pine,  the  never- 
covered  oaken  stairs,  the  good  strong  table  in  the  dining-room 
at  which  might  sit,  perhaps,  a  dozen  guests ;  the  covered 
chairs  and  bed-room  sets  brought  here  from  Holland  long  ago. 
The  rooms  are  small ;  but  litde  paint  is  used,  save  now  and  then 
a  ceiling  centre-piece  ;  the  carvings  here  and  there  are  things 
Peter  whittled  out  evenings  by  the  fire,  while  the  Empress 
mended  clothes  or  knit  the  great  Czar's  woollen  socks.  Such 
was  the  imperial  residence,  where  lived  the  king  of  a  hundred 
million  men.  If  you  go  to  the  other  palaces,  here  or  in  Rome 
or  Potsdam,  —  any  kingly  capital,  —  you  will  note  a  change  from 
plain  to  most  luxurious  ways.  But  there  are  palaces  every- 
where ;  and  time  spent  in  seeing  them,  after  you  have  seen  a 
few,  is  labor  spent  in  vain. 

What  you  will  find  most  interesting  here,  perhaps,  are  the 
Hermitage,  —  great  museum  of  art  in  pictures  and  in  marbles, 

—  and  great  St.  Isaac's  church.  Church  of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan, 
Church  of  St.  George,  the  burial-place  of  royalty,  from  Peter 
down.  The  gallery  is  a  gem.  You  hear  of  Florence,  Dresden, 
London  galleries,  and  the  great  Louvre  display,  but  very  little 
of  the  Hermitage,  which  takes  rank  with  the  first  and  best. 
These  Russian  princes  began  their  picture-hunting  rather  late, 
and  after  the  older  galleries  had  long  been  well  stocked  with 
gems ;  but  they  bought  with  great  care  and  persistence,  so  tliat 
one  may  well  be  astonished  at  the  number  and  superior  excel- 
lence of  the  works  here  shown.  The  gallery  fairly  revels  in  the 
best  works  of  the  Flemish  school,  having  not  less  than  thirty- 
four  select  Van  Dycks,  —  more  than  in  any  other  gallery,  except 
Munich ;  forty-one  Rembrandts,  —  no  other  gallery  has  as 
many ;  eight  Paul  Potters,  —  all  the  rest  have  but  ten  ;  sixty 
Rubens,  —  Madrid  and  Munich  only  have  more  ;  forty  Teniers, 

—  Madrid  alone  has  more  ;  fourteen  Snyders,  fifty  Steens,  four- 
teen Ruysdaels ;  and  so  on  through  the  list,  unrivalled  any- 
where, —  a  court  of  masters'  gems. 

The  Italian  and  the  Spanish  schools  are  also  very  rich.     In 


398  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Raphaels,  Leonardos,  Correggios,  Veroneses,  Tintorettos,  Carlo 
Dolces,  Guido  Rhenis,  Domenichinos,  Delsartos,  in  Murillos, 
Velasquez,  Riberas,  —  those  and  all  the  rest,  the  collection  is 
superb.  Here  is  Raphael's  famous  Madonna  of  Casa  d'Alba, 
his  noted  Holy  Family,  and  the  Madonna  Conestabile,  and 
several  others ;  while  the  Murillo  room  has  no  superior  in 
Europe,  beyond  the  line  of  that  great  master's  home. 

The  French,  German,  English,  and  Russian  schools  are  also 
quite  complete  ;  in  short,  it  is  difficult  to  say  wherein,  in  a  genu- 
ine way,  this  gallery  of  the  Hermitage  is  a  step  behind  the  most 
famous  ones  of  Europe.  The  paintings  are  not  church  and 
monastery  rubbish  brought  to  the  galleries  as  to  an  asylum,  as 
too  many  pictures  are  from  dilapidated  religious  institutions ; 
but  were  selected  with  great  care  from  carefully  chosen  private 
collections,  such  as  Marquis  Crozat's,  that  of  Count  de  Bruhl, 
Robert  Walpole's  Houghton  Hall  gallery,  that  of  the  Due  de 
Choiseul,  —  these  and  many  more,  regardless,  almost,  of  ex- 
pense. These  fine  works  are  orders  from  the  most  famous 
artists  of  the  world  from  Great  Peter's  day  down  to  the  present 
time,  and  have  made  for  Russia  a  most  noble  collection,  with 
fewer  unattractive  and  unworthy  paintings  than  any  other  gal- 
lery in  Europe.  As  in  Choiseul's  collection,  —  he  had  one 
hundred  and  forty-seven  fine  paintings,  —  Russia's  agent  selected 
only  twelve  from  the  entire  lot,  paying  eight  hundred  and  forty 
thousand  dollars,  while  the  entire  lot  brought  about  two  million 
five  hundred  thousand  dollars.  This  will  furnish  an  idea  of  the 
character  of  the  Hermitage  collection,  —  the  best  of  the  best, 
regardless  of  cost. 

In  modern  marble  it  is  very  fine,  the  best  examples  of  Cano- 
va's  work  and  the  later  sculptors.  In  Greek  and  Roman  sculp-^ 
ture  there  is  less,  —  some  pieces  very  rare,  —  an  only  existing 
bust  of  Sallust,  the  famous  Venus  of  the  Hermitage,  Niobes,  and 
countless  busts  and  figures  of  good  or  bad  degree.  Then  there 
are  Scythian  curiosities  and  antiques ;  no  end  of  coin  and  old- 
time  jewelry  ;  great  show  of  tassa,  vases,  jasper,  onyx,  with 
crystals,  malachite,  and  lazuli ;  great  chunks  of  opal  and  of 
smoked  topaz,  —  a  world  of  precious  and  curious  things  that 
fill  a  hundred  rooms,  to  see  the  which  intelligently  would  take 
you  —  never  mind  ;  life  has  a  limit. 

There  are  churches  to  be  seen  all  over  the  world  ;  and  when 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  399 

you  think  you  hav^e  seen  the  costliest  and  best,  then  come  to 
Russia.  If  people  were  really  good  in  proportion  to  the  num- 
ber, size,  and  magnificence  of  their  churches,  what  lands  of 
pure  delight  would  Rome,  Constantinople,  and  Moscow  be  ! 
Here  is  St.  Isaac's.  I  can't  tell  you  who  Saint  Isaac  was,  but  he 
has  a  mia;htv  monument.  It  cost  a  million  dollars  to  drive  the 
piles  to  build  it  on.  It  was  forty  years  in  building,  and,  with- 
out the  ground,  cost  twenty  million  dollars.  It  is  not  large  like 
St.  Peter's,  but  has  a  wealth  of  polished  Finland  granite,  rich 
Siberian  stone,  marble,  great  fluted  columns  crusted  over  with 
precious  malachite  and  lazuli,  great  solid  columns  of  pure  verde 
antique,  grand  things  in  bronze  and  solid  silver  frosted  over 
with  gold,  as  though  the  silver  were  not  good  enough ;  the  work 
within,  without,  of  solid  stone  and  metal,  and  not  a  piece  of  wood. 
Outside  are  one  hundred  and  twelve  red  granite  columns  sixty 
feet  high  and  seven  feet  through  ;  single  pieces,  polished  per- 
fectly and  surmounted  with  gold  bronze  capitals.  Gigantic 
blocks  on  blocks  of  deeply  polished  Finland  granite  rise  above  ; 
bronze  doors  of  monstrous  size  and  weight.  No  pen  can  fairly 
tell  its  inner  glories.  The  malachite  work  alone  —  the  crusting 
the  eight  columns  with  that  precious  stone  — cost  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  thousand  dollars ;  the  marble  inwrought  floor  a 
million  more. 

Then  there  is  the  Kazan,  built  in  compliment  to  Our  Lady  of 
Kazan,  costing  half  a  dozen  millions.  Our  Lady  of  Kazan  is 
there,  —  at  least  her  portrait  is.  She  is  from  the  Cossack  coun- 
try. A  native  had  a  dream.  He  dreamed  that  a  thousand 
versts  away — away  through  forests,  swamps,  and  lairs  of  beasts 
—  there  was  a  picture  of  the  Madonna  waiting  for  him.  So, 
after  several  repetitions  of  the  dream,  he  started  off";  went  miles 
and  miles,  for  months  and  months,  through  dangerous  woods, 
through  jungles,  steppes,  desert  lands ;  through  reeds  and 
swamps ;  suffered  hunger,  bites  of  beasts  and  serpents'  stings ; 
torn  were  his  clothes  from  off"  his  back  ;  torn  was  his  flesh  from 
off"  his  bones ;  poisoned  his  blood  :  his  hearing,  sense  of  taste, 
and  feeling  gone ;  staggering  and  swooning,  about  to  die,  he 
dragged  his  body  to  the  dreamed-of  spot ;  the  picture  was 
there ;  he  pulled  himself  unto  it  with  his  latest  breath  and  latest 
ounce  of  strength  ;  he  touched  it  !  New  life,  new  flesh,  new 
blood  and  breath  came   unto  him  ;  new  senses,  perfect  man- 


b 


400  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

hood,  form,  and  strength.  The  dead  man  lived  again.  The  pic- 
ture in  his  hands,  he  ran  some  weeks,  both  night  and  day.  No 
rest,  no  food,  he  needed  now ;  he  brought  his  trophy  to  Kazan. 
It  healed  the  ailing  far  and  near ;  it  made  the  sick  ones  well  at 
once,  —  the  blind  to  see,  the  deaf  to  hear,  the  dumb  to  speak, 
the  lame  to  walk ;  and  that  is  why  so  many  millions  were  spent 
here  by  the  Government  since  1790  to  give  Our  Lady  of  Kazan 
so  rare  a  home  in  St.  Petersburg.  This  was  the  story  told  to  me. 
If  you  don't  believe  it,  come  and  see  for  yourself.  It  is  here  ; 
not  much  of  a  picture,  to  be  sure,  but  being  angel-painted,  must 
be  good.  She  has  a  solid  silver  home  ;  her  garb  is  beaten  gold, 
and  round  her  head  are  clustered  gems,  —  a  million  dollars' 
worth.  And  there  the  people  flock  to  pray  in  masses  all  their 
days  and  years,  to  get  cured  of  aches  and  pains  and  human  ills 
that  come  to  us  on  earth.  The  doctors  here  —  there  may  be 
som.e,  what  need  there  is  I  cannot  see  —  must  wait  and  starve ; 
for  with  Our  Lady  of  Kazan  to  heal  all  wounds  and  cure  all  ills, 
why  will  such  men  persist  in  coming  ?  The  church  is  a  marvel 
of  costly  beauty.  Its  great  bronze  gates  you  approach  by  a  long 
arcade  of  mighty  fluted  columns  ;  within  you  see  the  flash  of 
five  polished  granite  shafts  with  base  and  capital  of  gleaming 
golden  bronze,  with  princely  pavement,  massive  silver  screens, 
—  whole  hundred-weights  of  silver  used,  —  behind  which  well 
forth  harmonies,  praises  to  God  and  to  Kazan,  praise  to  him 
who  gave  us  such  a  miracle. 

•  •••••■ 

Sunday  is  a  great  day  in  St.  Petersburg.  The  Russian  is  the 
greatest  churchman  in  the  world,  and  rather  wicked.  The  Em- 
peror is  the  head  of  the  nation,  —  the  army,  navy,  church,  and 
everything.  He  leads  the  priests  in  prayer ;  he  leads  the  troops 
to  war ;  and  when  Sunday  comes  he  takes  a  seat  upon  the  race- 
course stand  and  enjoys  the  sport  tremendously. 

They  have  fine  horses  here.  I  never  saw  such  horseflesh 
hitched  to  cabs  as  on  these  Russian  streets  ;  fine  mettled  stock, 
that  trot  or  pace  with  stride  and  vim  that  almost  take  away  your 
breath.  At  the  races  they  mix  some  sense  with  merriment,  even 
if  it  is  done  on  the  Sabbath-day.  The  riders  are  not  the  jockeys, 
but  largely  army  men,  —  cavalry  officers  who  need  to  know  how 
to  ride  with  ease  and  perfect  control.  They  ride  before  the 
Emperor,  and  so  must  do  it  well.     What  would  be  the  upshot  of 


POLAND  AND   RUSSIA.  4OI 

affairs  in  America  if  some  Sunday  afternoon  the  President  were 
to  have  a  hundred  cavahy  officers  out  on  the  race-course  or 
running  turf,  showing  off  their  horseback  skill?  Yet  no  one 
seems  to  mind  it  here  ;  no  priest  or  parson  makes  a  row  or  tells 
of  wrath  to  come.  The  Emperor  has  a  custom  —  as  his  father 
had,  and  several  before  him  —  of  calling  at  the  Church  of  Our 
Lady  of  Kazan  to  say  his  prayers,  on  his  way  to  the  station  when 
he  is  going  off  somewhere  ;  or  when  he  goes  or  comes  from 
war,  or  any  undertaking.  We  don't  like  those  Russian  churches. 
There  is  too  much  worldly  show.  The  costly  columns  are  hung 
with  signs  of  war.  Here  are  the  flags  of  all  the  nations  with 
which  Russia  has  fought  since  Great  Peter's  time,  —  the  cap- 
tured banners  of  Napoleon's  war,  the  conquered  Persians,  Poles, 
and  Turks,  — emblems  of  war  and  carnage,  of  thousands  slain  and 
thousands  widowed,  orphaned,  and  made  sad.  Here,  too,  are 
swords  yet  drunk  with  brothers'  blood,  and  keys  of  vanquished 
castles  and  of  cities  brought  to  grief,  hung  up  among  these  fer- 
vent worshippers,  —  above  the  heads  of  such  as  pray  to  be  for- 
given ;  of  such  as  preach  the  word  of  God  and  call  men  to  sin  no 
more,  and  shed  no  brother's  blood.  It  may  be  all  right,  this 
mixing  up  of  holy  things  with  bloody  ones,  of  faith  and  fight,  of 
peace  and  war,  but  it  does  n't  look  so.  Hang  in  our  churches 
iDattle  flags  captured  at  Bennington  or  New  Orleans ;  some 
Mexican  or  Shiloh  flags  ;  mix  in  some  swords,  a  lot  of  scalps 
in  fancy  festoons  on  the  walls,  —  what  would  the  preacher  say  ? 
But  things  go  differently  here. 

Sailing,  a  few  days  later,  through  Russian  waters,  I  fell  to 
chatting  with  a  Russian  colonel,  a  man  of  intelligence  and  of 
information  on  political  subjects  not  only  concerning  his  own 
country  but  others  as  well.  He  was  a  pleasant,  smoothly  shaved 
man,  with  one  ear  partly  shot  away  by  a  careless  Turkish  bullet 
in  1877.  His  regiment,  he  said,  was  the  first  to  open  fight 
upon  the  Turk  in  that  unfruitful  war.  The  ear  was  nothing, 
so  he  said  ;  he  could  have  lost  his  head  and  smiled,  had  the 
Czar  not  minded  Queen  Victoria's  pleading  note,  but  gone 
straight  into  Constantinople,  as  he  had  an  open  way  and  right  to 
do.  "  Oh,  heaven  !  what  a  mistake  !  When  shall  we  have  the 
like  chance  again  ?  How  we  fought  for  it,  how  we  bled  ;  how 
we  gave  up  our  lives  for  it,  but  stayed  outside  the  walls,  although 

26 


402  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

our  whole  ambition  was  to  go  in  !  The  Czar  is  dead ;  and  may 
he  rest  in  peace  !  His  people  never  will  till  the  Bosphorus  is 
ours  ! 

"  I  am  a  Russian,"  the  colonel  went  on  to  say.  "  I  am  in  the 
army.  There  are  with  us  two  classes,  the  rulers  and  the  ruled. 
You  in  America  have  the  same,  the  voters  and  the  voted. 
The  army  rules  ;  the  ruled  obey.  The  army  is  the  {qw  ;  so  in 
your  own  country  the  voters  are  the  few,  the  voted  class  the 
many.  Who  nominates  your  presidents  and  governors  and 
senators,  —  the  many  or  the  few?  The  few,  the  very  few.  Who 
fall  into  line,  whether  they  know  the  candidate  or  not  ?  The 
voted  class.  They  come  up  at  the  sound  of  King  Caucus's 
drum,  and  vote  as  King  Caucus  says.  They  obey  the  call  of 
the  party  bugle  blast,  and  vote  a  vote  they  cannot  always  read ; 
vote  a  ballot  that  King  Caucus  or  King  Employer  places  in 
their  hands  ;  vote  for  men  whose  names  they  never  heard,  whose 
capabilities  they  know  nothing  of.  You  call  this  liberty.  Is  it 
not  autocracy  after  all ;  and  are  not  the  two  extremes  —  your 
democracy  and  our  autocracy  —  closer  connected  than  you  may 
think  ? 

"  If  laborers  rise  in  Russia,  —  if  such  a  case  might  be,  and 
sometimes  there  have  been  indications,  —  the  troops  soon  come, 
and  the  end  comes  with  them.  If  your  employees  rise  and  will 
not  down,  but  clog  your  trade  and  stop  your  trains  and  burn 
your  railroad  shops,  you  do  the  same ;  you  send  your  troops  to 
shoot.  The  only  difference  is  this  :  we  send  our  troops  before 
damage  is  done  ;  you  wait  till  fire  and  damage  come.  You 
call  that  liberty.  I  don't.  The  best  way  is  to  nip  it  in  the  bud. 
Call  it  autocracy  or  by  what  name  you  will,  't  is  better  to 
check  this  rising  up  at  once  and  then  investigate.  You  may 
not  have  too  much  liberty,  but  you  do  have  too  much  license, 
and  you  make  a  mistake  in  calling  license  liberty." 

"  But  we  go  upon  the  principle,"  said  I,  "  that  all  men  are 
created  free  and  equal." 

"  The  principle  is  wrong.  Look  all  through  nature.  Is  it 
so  ?  Look  all  along  the  lines  of  men  upon  the  street,  —  they 
who  have  stores  and  shops,  and  those  who  carry  dirt ;  are 
these  all  equal  ?  Do  you  treat  them  so  ?  That  fellow  there  with 
rags  upon  his  back,  and  vermin  in  his  hair;  is  he  your  equal? 
Could  he  be  ?     Nonsense  !  man.    The  serfs,  the  underlings,  the 


POLAND  AXD  RUSSIA.  403 

men  who  grope  with  ball  and  chain,  are  not  my  equals  — cannot 
be.  You  may  have  your  pretty  theory  ;  you  don't  live  up  to  it 
at  home,  neither  do  I.  You  liberated,  twenty  years  ago,  a  mil- 
lion or  so  of  colored  serfs.  Are  they  your  equals?  Yes,  they 
vote ;  but  do  you  take  them  to  your  homes,  and  do  you  offer 
them  your  daughters?  In  the  States,  somewhere,  I  saw  it 
printed  in  your  cars:  'No  colored  folks  admitted.'  These 
colored  folks  were  citizens,  voters,  '  free  and  equal,'  if  you 
please,  but  no  one  cared  to  sit  beside  them  in  the  cars,  or  at 
the  hotel  tables,  or  at  the  household  board.  I  can't  see  what 
you  mean  by  this  '  free  and  equal '  talk  but  to  catch  votes.  I 
went  to  Beecher's  church,  near  New  York.  He  was  a  big 
man ;  wore  long  hair  ;  but  his  talk  was  fine.  I  liked  him  ;  he 
was  large,  — ■■  large  as  Peter  the  Great,  —  and  his  talk  was  bigger 
than  himself.  He  spoke  of  chains  smitten  from  negro  limbs ; 
in  fact,  he  complimented  the  late  Czar  for  turning  loose  our  serfs, 
and  I  shall  always  think  that  my  friend  General  S.  put  him  up 
to  it ;  but  I  looked  about  the  audience,  looked  when  I  came  out, 
and  asked  the  general  if  there  were  no  negroes  in  New  York, 
and  if  they  ever  w^ent  to  church.  He  laughed,  and  said, 
'  Maybe  they  do,  out  somewhere  by  themselves.' 

'•  Liberty  !  I  do  not  like  the  word.  It  is  adulterated  with  so 
much  selfish,  wretched  stuff.  I  like  much  better  despotism. 
We  say  there  are  two  classes,  rulers  and  ruled.  Educate  the 
rulers ;  make  them  as  good  as  you  can ;  keep  the  other  class  in 
ignorance,  to  do  your  will  and  work." 

He  told  a  truth  or  two,  but  what  a  sentiment !  Education 
for  the  few,  degradation  for  the  many  !  Horrible  !  In  the 
years  that  are  to  come,  in  the  centuries  to  dawn  upon  this  half- 
barbaric  race,  in  the  crystallization  of  human  forces  and  human 
thought  that  is  slowly  working  here,  some  day  the  word  must 
come,  some  day  the  answer  sound  around  the  world,  that 
Russia,  too,  is  free  ;  that  there  is  no  degradation  line  among 
people  who  know  their  duty  and  try  to  do  their  best. 

I  asked  the  colonel  about  the  tax  system  of  Russia. 

"  Taxes  ?  Oh,  we  are  not  hard  upon  the  people.  We  must 
not  be.  We  pay  less  taxes  than  you.  We  let  our  money  be 
debased,  to  make  it  easier  on  the  taxed.  A  wrong  idea,  may- 
be ;  but  the  tax  is  not  raised  yet  to  put  our  paper  on  a  par  with 
gold.     Your  war  was  in   1S61   to   1S65.     How  soon  did  you 


404  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

resume?  In  twenty  years  or  so.  Ours  was  in  1877  ;  maybe  we 
shall  resume  as  soon  as  you.  We  tax  land,  —  real  estate  you 
call  it ;  a  moderated  tax  of  one  or  two  per  cent ;  not  much." 

"  About  personal  property,  —  stocks  of  goods  in  hand,  and 
money  and  credits?"  we  asked. 

"  Nothing  on  such  as  that,"  he  said. 

"Why?" 

"  Because,  if  the  goods  be  foreign  goods,  as  most  of  them 
are,  they  have  paid  one  tax  —  a  duty  tax  —  when  they  pass  our 
lines.  The  dealer  has  to  pay  that  much  more  for  them.  What 
is  the  sense  of  taxing  the  same  goods  twice  ?  And  if  we  did, 
the  duty  tax  and  the  second  tax  would  both  come  on  the 
consumer  of  the  goods,  and  make  it  burdensome  and  wrong. 
But  more  than  this,  if  part  of  the  goods  are  from  home  fac- 
tories, the  manufacturer  pays  a  tax  on  them  ;  should  we  put  on 
another  for  the  consumer  to  pay?  The  dealer  —  you  call  him 
merchant  —  pays  a  sort  of  Ucense  tax  for  doing  business,  —  a 
merely  nominal  sum,  and  that  is  all." 

"  And  the  moneyed  man ;  what  does  he  pay  in  the  way  of 
tax?"  we  asked. 

"  Nothing  in  the  way  of  tax.  How  shall  we  know  his  busi- 
ness ways,  his  losses  or  gains  ?  We  tax  his  income.  If  he  has 
made  nothing  in  his  ventures,  why  tax  him?  If  he  has  made 
w-ell,  tax  him  accordingly.  Capital  is  nothing.  What  capital 
earns  is  something.  Tax  it.  I  was  in  your  country  a  few  years 
ago  and  studied  your  affairs  somewhat ;  and  you  will  excuse  me 
for  saying  it,  but  in  some  things  we  of  Russia,  despotic  though 
we  be,  are  quite  as  liberal,  quite  as  safe,  as  you.  Our  taxes  are 
more  just.  You  said  to  England,  '  No  taxation  without  repre- 
sentation.' That  was  a  catch-word  ;  you  don't  live  up  to  it,  — 
don't  even  try.  Millions  upon  millions,  so  I  found,  are  taxed, 
and  all  representation  denied.  You  call  it  liberty  to  say  a 
woman  with  a  million  in  her  hands  shall  not  vote  for  men  who 
are  to  dispose  of  her  interests.  I  call  it  unmitigated  tyranny  — 
despotism,  if  you  please.  I  was  in  Chicago.  On  a  fine  street 
there  was  pointed  out  to  me  a  splendid  building,  owned,  they 
said,  by  an  unmarried  woman,  —  a  bright  young  lady.  But  she 
could  n't  vote.  The  drunken  loafer  that  reeled  along  in  front  of 
this  fine  property  could  vote.     You  call  this  liberty?  " 

"  How  would  you  treat  such  a  case  in  Russia?"  we  asked. 


POLAND  AND  RUSSIA.  405 

"  We  have  no  voting,  no  criterion.  When  we  talk  of  such  a 
change,  we  speak  of  it  as  quite  improbable ;  but  if  voting 
comes  to  us,  let  no  man  vote  but  such  as  have  lands  or  houses, 
fixed  homes.  Man  or  woman,  this  should  be  the  rule.  The 
right  to  vote  must  be  a  noble  right.  The  man  who  wants  it 
ought  to  be  able  to  prove  himself  worthy  of  the  privilege  by 
owning  something.  Casting  a  vote  that  affects  his  neighbor's 
property,  when  the  voter  has  none  himself  to  be  affected,  may 
be  a  sort  of  liberty,  but  I  don't  understand  it." 

The  Russian's  talk  was  not  without  some  sense.  His  wife  sat 
smiling  by  his  side,  —  his  rather  young,  plainly  dressed,  and 
pretty  wife  ;  his  bright  boy  sitting  by  his  knee.  And  so  we  sat 
and  chatted  while  the  boat  pushed  on,  sailed  on  among  the 
low,  flat  granite  isles,  —  the  verdured  granite  isles,  where  all 
these  tens  of  thousands  of  years  Flora  has  wrought  with  frost 
and  damp  and  grit  and  moss  to  coin  a  sparse  spruce  forest  out 
of  naught.  So  is  the  Russian  nation  being  coined  from  out 
nomadic  savagery,  to  be  some  day,  when  crystallized,  when 
growth  and  bloom  shall  come  and  ripening  be  felt,  the  might- 
iest of  the  mighty  powers  of  Europe.  We  shall  learn  some 
things,  so  will  they ;  we  shall  have  proper,  prosperous  liberty, 
and  their  autocracy  will  meet  it  on  the  way. 


406  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SCANDINAVIAN   LANDS. 

Finland.  —  Helsingfors.  —  Abo. — The  Land  of  the  INIidnight  Sun. — 
Through  the  Straits  of  Bothnia.  —  Norway. —  Christiania.  —  An  Over- 
Population.  —  Relief  in  Emigration.  —  Denmark.  —  Copenhagen. 
—  From  Copenhagen  to  Schleswig-Holstein.  —  Kiel.  —  The  Great 
Surgeon  Esmarch. 

OUR  boat  is  moored  at  Helsingfors,  town  of  the  Swedish 
Helsings,  who  setded  it.  The  town  is  up  in  Finland. 
To-day  is  the  Sabbath.  The  stores  are  closed,  the  streets  are 
still,  and  the  people  stroll  about  the  park.  Helsingfors,  the 
capital  of  the  province,  is  a  place  of  several  thousand,  with 
a  good  harbor  and  raihoad  terminus,  —  a  well-built,  thrifty  town 
away  up  here  in  sixty-one  degrees  or  more  north  latitude,  where 
wheat  will  not  mature.  They  raise  some  barley,  rye,  and  roots. 
The  bread  they  eat  is  for  the  most  part  brown  or  black  ;  the  meat 
is  largely  fish ;  and  in  fish  and  wood  and  stone  they  have  quite 
a  trade.  You  might  expect  in  such  a  far-off  town  to  find  the 
streets  like  country  streets,  the  houses  low  and  dull  with  age. 
The  streets  are  broad  and  neady  paved,  lighted  with  gas,  sup- 
phed  with  water,  fountains,  monuments,  and  public  parks,  and 
houses  as  elegant  as  any  you  would  see  in  larger  cities.  The 
wharves  are  spacious,  built  of  solid  granite  ;  iron  bridges  cross 
the  narrow  sea  arm  that  stretches  through  the  town,  and  pretty 
island  parks  and  yacht-club  house  stand  isolated  in  the  bay. 

Our  boat  was  on  the  restaurant  plan.  You  buy  your  ticket, 
which  gives  you  passage  and  state-room  from  St.  Petersburg 
to  Stockholm,  —  about  sixty-five  hours,  —  but  does  not  in- 
clude food,  for  twenty-one  roubles  and  fifty  kopeks.  A  proper 
rouble  is  eighty  cents  ;  and  there  are  a  hundred  kopeks  in  a 
rouble.  But  one  must  eat.  The  morning  meal  is  coffee,  —  fair, 
served  with  real  cream  and  sugar.  This  and  fancy  cakes,  some 
toasted  biscuits,  and  some  bits  of  bread  make  up  a  slender 
meal.     At  nine  you  hear  a  bell,  and  go  into  the  eating-room ; 


SCANDINA  VIAN  LANDS.  407 

the  tables  are  neatly  spread,  with  casters,  plates,  and  knives 
and  forks.  The  food  is  on  the  side-board.  Don't  go  and  sit 
down  and  wait  to  be  served.  As  you  enter,  go  to  the  table  and 
get  your  plate  and  knife  and  fork.  Leave  your  napkin  where 
you  got  your  plate,  in  order  to  keep  your  place.  With  plate  in 
hand  go  to  the  sideboard  and  select  your  fish.  There  are  from 
six  to  eleven  plates  of  them  before  you  :  cold  fish  smothered 
in  gelatine ;  more  cold  fish  curled  up  in  greens  and  gravy ;  cold 
fish  saute ;  cold  fish  gele ;  cold  fish  with  mushrooms  stewed  in 
cream  ;  cold  fish  with  capers  and  olive  oil ;  cold  fish  with  greens 
and  jellies  ;  sardines  ;  hot  broiled  fish  ;  dried  and  devilled  fish. 
Having  finished  your  fish,  you  may  drink  some  vodka  if  you 
will. 

After  the  fish  the  waiters  bring  in  beef  or  veal,  chicken  and 
fruit,  coffee  and  cognac.  You  dine  at  three,  and  sup  at  six  or 
seven ;  have  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  at  an  extra  cost  of  about 
a  dollar  and  twenty  cents  a  day. 

The  steamboat  has  a  captain,  mate,  an  engineer  and  fireman  ; 
the  servants  are  Swedish  girls.  Girl  cooks,  girl  waiters,  boots, 
clerks,  chambermaids,  —  all  girls,  who  catch  your  grip-sacks 
when  you  come  on  board,  show  you  to  your  rooms,  dust  and 
mend  your  clothes,  blacken  your  boots,  bring  you  your  coffee 
and  your  bills,  and  wait  upon  the  table. 

At  four  o'clock  we  came  upon  the  deck.  There  had  been 
a  regatta  before  our  boat  arrived,  and  the  people  were  coming 
back  in  swarms  —  big  steamer-loads  with  brazen  bands  ;  a  score 
of  white-winged  yachts  came  gliding  in  with  no  end  of  yacht- 
club  boys  and  girls.  The  Finnish  Sabbath  ends  at  six  o'clock, 
then  come  music  and  the  out-door  theatre.  We  went  to  a 
Sunday-evening  Finland  show  in  ancient  Helsingfors.  The  ad- 
mission was  twenty  cents,  the  seat  and  programme  ten  cents 
more.  The  grounds  were  very  neat,  as  were  the  stands,  the 
tables,  benches,  chairs,  and  lively  waiting-lads.  They  served 
small  beer  and  full-grown  beer ;  served  coffee  and  mineral  water. 
Whole  families  came  there  to  sit  and  sip  and  promenade  be- 
tween the  acts  in  the  birchen  groves  near  by.  The  men  were 
dressed  like  other  men ;  the  women  wore  Paris  bonnets,  and 
storming  Paris  bustles,  on  which  a  child  might  sit  with  perfect 
ease. 


408  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

o 

Abo  is  an  ancient  place  on  the  Finland  gulf,  —  the  old-time 
capital  of  the  Finns.  "  Abo  "  is  the  spelling  of  the  word,  but  it 
is  pronounced  "  Obo."  Once  Finland  was  an  independent 
power ;  then  Sweden  swallowed  it ;  then  Russia  made  the  Swede 
disgorge  ;  and  now  poor  Finland  is  a  Russian  duchy,  —  a  sort  of 
independent  dependency,  as  Bavaria  is  to  the  German  em- 
pire ;  making  its  own  local  laws,  issuing  its  own  money,  help- 
ing the  czar  in  time  of  war,  and  taxing  Russian  goods  that  enter 
its  ports,  the  same  as  Canada  and  Australia  levy  duties  on 
English  goods  that  pass  their  lines.  Here  once  were  the  castle 
and  the  University  of  Finland,  —  a  place  of  first  importance. 
But  a  great  fire  wiped  it  out  a  hundred  years  or  more  ago. 
It  lost  its  stately  glories,  and  is  now  only  a  good-sized  trading- 
point  ;  good  streets  with  gas  and  water  works,  the  harbor  lined 
with  handsome  villas.  Our  ship  stopped  here  five  hours ;  one 
is  enough  to  see  the  town,  its  park  and  observatory  hill,  its 
casino  and  its  granite  quays.  It  is  a  pretty  place,  with  Lutheran 
churches  and  people  talking  Swedish. 

At  seven  in  the  evening  we  steamed  down  the  bay.  The 
ship  ploughed  on  among  the  birch-fringed  isles.  At  midnight 
the  ship  was  still  surrounded  by  the  birchen  fringe  and  reddish 
granite  rocks  ;  at  one  we  went  below,  and  still  the  light  was 
excellent,  the  fringes  plain,  the  gleaming  ripples  clear  almost  as 
day.  Thirty  minutes  later  the  sun  sent  up  some  reddish  gleams, 
right  where,  it  seemed,  he  had  but  just  now  sunk  to  rest !  He 
was  up  for  good,  his  flaming  disk  above  the  water-line,  his  new 
day's  work  begun. 

The  way  across  the  Bothnia  gulf  from  Finland  to  Stockholm 
leads  you  into  clear  waters  and  among  countless  islands.  There 
are  miles  and  miles  of  these  pretty  verdured  isles,  large  and 
small,  that  make  you  happy  all  the  way.  You  sit  far  into  the 
night  to  be  with  them  and  catch  their  birches'  gleam,  and  wake 
from  sleep  to  find  them  still  around  the  boat,  the  dark-green 
spruce  lit  up  with  white  birch  candles  everywhere,  and  deep, 
clear  water  all  around.  Near  Stockholm,  "  fortified  home," 
these  isles  and  shores  are  used  as  country-seats.  Here  are  the 
villa  of  the  merchant  prince  and  the  cottage  of  less  wealthy 
men,  clinging  to  the  grass-grown  rocks  or  nestling  in  the  ver- 
dured nooks,  —  a  happy  myriad  of  homes,  with  bathing-places 
and   boating-glens,  —  a   green-leaved,  rocky  paradise.      Here 


SCANDINAVIAN  LANDS.  4O9 

come  families  in  June  for  three  months'  rest  among  the  moss 
and  spruce  and  bright  birch  boughs,  and  soft,  fresh,  whole- 
some sky  and  air. 

•  ■  •  ■  •  •  • 

I  have  not  seen  much  of  the  Norway  and  Sweden  countries, 
splashed  with  lakes  and  fjords,  and  ridged  with  hills.  These 
fjords  are  fringed  with  birch  and  spruce,  the  mountains  clothed 
with  spruce  and  birch ;  the  land  looks  cold  and  raw  and  weak, 
the  fields  are  small,  their  products  light ;  no  wonder  the 
natives  come  to  America.  No  wonder  they  send  their  money 
home  to  help  their  parents  and  their  kin,  —  God  bless  them  for 
it,  and  for  the  money  sent  to  aid  dear  ones  in  coming  to 
America  ! 

The  scenery  here  is  very  fair ;  the  inhabitants  must  love  it. 
But  who  can  live  on  scenery  alone  ?  The  fjords  are  deep  and 
plentiful,  abounding  in  fish ;  but  all  can't  fish.  The  carrying 
trade  is  large,  and  these  brave  people  brave  the  sea ;  but 
neither  land  nor  sea  can  make  the  bread  to  fill  so  many  peo- 
ple's mouths  ;  so  here  and  at  other  ports  they  swarm  like  bees 
to  far-away  America. 

Sail  to  America  !  Repeat  it  several  times ;  then  come  with 
me  down  to  the  wharf.  Do  you  like  to  weep?  Then  come 
with  me  down  to  the  wharf  and  see  the  ship.  See  five  hundred 
emigrants  bound  for  America.  See  the  tottering  father  kiss  his 
son ;  hear  father,  mother,  cry  aloud  as  son  or  daughter  goes 
away  to  the  land  beyond  the  sea.  Husband  leaves  wife,  the 
brother  his  sister,  sister  parts  from  sister,  lover  from  lover,  friend 
from  friend ;  Father  in  heaven,  count  the  tears  that  fall,  and 
heal  the  hearts  that  ache,  this  parting  day  ! 

In  Christiania.  It  was  years  and  years  ago  that  a  robust 
Norway  king,  of  flaxen  hair  and  blessed  memory  —  they  called 
him  Christian  IV.  —  founded  this  city.  It  was  done,  they  say, 
in  that  famous  year  in  which  our  stubborn  Pilgrim  Fathers 
snubbed  their  stout  Dutch  landing  boats  against  old  Plymouth 
Rock.  It  is  not  much  of  a  city,  but  it  is  the  best  that  Norway 
has ;  and  how  so  desolate  a  land  could  even  do  so  well  as  this, 
is  rather  wonderful.  It  has  no  grand  effects,  like  spacious 
Stockholm  streets  ;  no  gorgeous  palaces  or  handsome  public 
squares  set  out  in  noble  trees,  fountains,  and  statues  of  stone 


41 0  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

and  bronze ;  but  many  people  live  here  in  a  quiet,  comfortable 
way,  and  send  out  ships  to  sea,  —  trade  here  and  there  and 
make  a  decent  living.  The  surplus  population  is  in  the  States. 
The  busiest  place  we  saw  in  all  the  streets  was  an  emigration 
ofifice,  a  sort  of  railroad-steamer  agency,  which  displayed  the 
stars  and  stripes,  and  dealt  out  railroad  tracts,  —  long  litho- 
graphed inducements  to  settle  on  the  rich  farming  lands  of  the 
great  Northwest. 

To  emigrate  is  the  best  thing  this  over-population  can  do. 
The  poorest  of  lands  raise  the  most  children.  The  rich  have 
comparatively  few ;  the  poor  have  an  abundance.  If  Ireland 
and  Norway  and  many  another  European  state  had  to  keep 
within  their  lines  all  that  are  born  upon  their  soil,  who  can  tell 
the  tale  of  want  and  misery  that  would  befall  them  ?  There  are 
vastly  more  Irish  in  America  than  in  Ireland ;  as  many  Scandi- 
navians, or  soon  will  be,  as  in  Norway  and  Sweden ;  and  if 
these  had  all  stayed  at  home  they  must  have  had  a  famine  all 
the  year  around.  Well  may  these  and  the  German  peoples,  and 
those  of  other  European  states,  thank  God  for  America,  —  the 
place  of  refuge,  the  great  safety-valve  of  all  the  European  land. 
When  her  borders  become  full,  and  her  children  fill  her  spacious 
lap.  Heaven  pity  the  over-product  of  Europe  !  You  may  write 
of  tariffs  or  free  trade  as  you  please ;  but  when  the  day  comes 
on,  as  come  it  must,  when  there  are  two  or  three  hungry  mouths 
for  every  single  mouthful,  at  home  and  abroad,  then  will  the  crisis 
come  ;  then  shall  we  hear  no  more  of  Chinese  economy,  or 
deride  those  who  live  on  less  than  we,  that  they  may  earn  and 
save. 

Yesterday  we  saw  one  man  and  eight  women  making  hay  in 
the  same  field,  —  some  old,  some  young.  Where  were  the  men  ? 
At  sea,  or  in  the  army.  Working  somewhere,  you  may  rest 
assured.  Yesterday  we  saw  —  we  saw  it  more  than  once  —  two 
human  beings  clad  in  women's  clothes,  hauling  a  plough  guided 
by  a  lad,  ploughing  up  the  stony  earth  to  raise  a  crop.  Where 
were  the  oxen  or  horses?  Don't  ask  foolish  questions.  You 
do  not  know  what  some  poor  people  must  do  for  daily  bread ; 
read  once  again  what  Kingsley  said,  — 

"  For  men  must  work  and  women  must  weep, 
When  there  's  little  to  earn  and  many  to  keep," 


SCANDINA  VIA  AT  LANDS.  4 1 1 

and  you  will  understand  it  better,  much  better.  Indeed,  we 
were  sad  at  heart  to  see  this  sight  in  Christian  lands.  But  we 
were  also  glad  at  heart,  when  driving,  later,  in  Cliristiania,  to  see 
a  crowd  about  an  office  door,  above  which  was  a  card,  — "A  ship 
for  North  America  !  "  Thank  God  for  America  !  The  Scands 
who  live  about  the  great  Northwest  —  Scand,  Teuton,  Gaul, 
and  Celt  —  have  reason  to  thank  God  for  the  United  States,  and 
for  the  ships  that  took  them  to  the  Western  land  ;  to  that  fair, 
better  soil ;  to  brighter,  better  lands  and  hopes.  The  Scand 
well  loves  his  home  :  the  lichen  loves  a  rock ;  the  Scand  goes 
forth  to  work,  and  willing  work  will  win. 

This  Norway-Swedish  peninsula  is  a  land  of  lovely  scenery,  — 
rock  and  lake  and  river ;  a  land  of  sparkling,  splashing  fjords, 
and  verdured  mountain  crag ;  land  of  scraggy  pine  and  lovely 
weeping  birch  and  silvery  poplar  ;  land  of  deep,  dark  tarns, 
and  rushing  streams  and  fish  and  birch-fringed  glenland,  furze 
and  lovely  fern ;  land  of  snow  and  ice  and  unique  scenery. 
But  what  of  scenery?  You  can't  cook  and  eat  k;  you  can't 
trade  on  it,  except  as  tourists  come  and  go  and  leave  their 
gold  behind.  It  has  no  prairie  fields,  no  miles  and  miles  of 
wheat  and  oats  and  corn  ;  only  rocks  and  lakes  and  rushing 
streams  and  fjords,  —  ploughable  soil  the  rarest  exception.  But 
out  of  this  sterility  springs  no  end  of  thrifty  people.  They  are 
hardy,  inured  to  labor,  stout,  industrious,  honest  withal,  and 
peaceable.  They  come  to  us  in  America,  bringing  little  minted 
wealth,  but  much  of  health  and  sturdy  honesty.  We  make  jest 
of  them  sometimes,  —  saying  they  will  eat  only  such  stuff  as 
they  cannot  sell  or  fatten  their  hogs  upon  ;  but  they  pay  their 
debts,  and  often  become  the  most  wealthy  and  most  influential 
of  their  communities. 

•  •  •  «  •  •  ■ 

We  are  now  through  with  this  far  northern  land,  and  seek  the 
sunny  South.  We  go  to  Copenhagen.  The  name  is  barbarous, 
and  you  that  can  pronounce  it  know  little  of  its  meaning. 
Let  us  see  :  Copen  is  a  verb,  "  to  cheapen  ; "  hagen  is  *'  a 
haven,"  —  "a  harbor."  Copenhagen  is  then  a  cheapening  haven, 
—  a  market-place,  and  so  it  is  to-day,  as  in  all  the  centuries 
past,  —  a  meeting-place  of  ships,  where  goods  are  brought  from 
near  and  far,  and  sold  for  what  they  will  bring ;  cheapened  to 
the  sale  limit.     It  is  a  good  place  to  visit.     The  wharves  are 


412  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

quite  extensive  ;  the  streets  are  paved  and  very  broad  ;  the  houses 
have  a  solid  business  look  ;  the  hotels  charge  a  double  price,  lest 
they  should  make  a  mistake  ;  the  parks  and  gardens  are  broad 
and  fine  ;  the  churches  large  and  fair  and  tall ;  the  whole  pre- 
sents a  money  look- 

Amid  her  streets  and  dikes  and  churches,  her  docks  and 
palaces,  we  spend  our  time,  and  wonder  how  so  great  a  world 
of  wealth  was  ever  garnered  here,  —  up  here  among  the  straits 
and  cramped-up  patches  of  low  land.  But  it  is  the  sea  and 
trade  with  northern  lands  that  built  up  Copenhagen,  and  builds 
her  up  and  keeps  her  up  to-day.  Denmark  is  a  little  nation,  but 
independent.  She  is  Christian,  Protestant ;  furnishes  crown 
princes,  queens,  and  other  functionaries,  for  many  a  Protestant 
government  that  must  have  Christian  husbands  and  wives,  but 
cannot  select  them  from  stock  that  is  Catholic. 

I^eaving  Copenhagen  we  sail  to  Kiel.  The  word  means 
"  ship."  It  is  a  German  city  in  Schleswig-Holstein.  !Many 
there  are  in  America  to-day  —  exiles  of  the  powdery  patriotic 
times  of  '48,  who  wear  plain  battle-scars,  and  know  full  well 
what  love  of  country  means  —  who  hoped  for  Holstein,  worked 
and  fought  for  it.  No  wonder.  It  is  a  noble  little  country. 
We  rode  through  it  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  wondered 
not  that  men  should  work  and  write  and  arm  themselves  to 
fight  for  such  a  lovely  land  and  freedom  from  a  heavy  yoke. 

Kiel  is  a  pleasing  place  —  its  harbor  a  very  hornets'  nest. 
Here  Prussian  ships  are  fitted  for  war.  Miles  and  miles  of 
marine  armament ;  docks,  firm  and  floating ;  miles  and  miles 
of  ships,  waiting  to  be  called  to  war ;  miles  and  miles  of  arse- 
nals, forging  death  for  foes  ;  but  better  than  all  are  miles  and 
miles  of  merchant  ships,  and  miles  and  miles  of  merchant 
wharves. 

Here  in  Kiel  lives  the  great  surgeon  Esmarch,  the  discoverer 
of  the  rubber  ligature  in  amputations.  How  did  he  do  it? 
Take  a  string  and  wind  it  around  your  finger,  —  wind  it  tight, 
beginning  at  the  end.  Wind  it  to  the  second  joint ;  unwind  the 
part  you  wound  up  first,  —  unwind  almost  to  the  second  joint, 
but  not  quite.  Now  look  at  your  finger  ;  not  a  drop  of  blood 
circulates.  You  may  cut  into  it  here  and  there,  and  deep  ;  not 
a  drop  of  blood  will  come.  A  surgeon  may  cut  the  arteries, 
take  them  quietly  up,  and  tie  them  ;  not  a  drop  of  blood  is  lost. 


SCANDINAVIAN  LANDS.  413 

for  the  string  you  wound  about  cuts  off  the  arterial  and  the 
venous  flow.  Now  you  want  your  leg  cut  off,  cut  off  below  or 
yet  above  the  knee,  without  loss  of  blood.  Take  a  flat  rubber 
string ;  now  wind  it  tight  from  tip  of  toe  to  knee,  —  above  the 
knee  ;  drive  back,  hold  back  the  blood  ;  put  on  the  compress 
fast  upon  the  thigh  ;  unwind  the  flattened  rubber  string  ;  cut  off 
the  leg;  the  flesh  is  clean  and  white,  and  not  a  drop  of  hu- 
man blood  is  spilled!  Wonderful,  is  n't  it?  Every  schoolboy 
has  wound  the  string  around  his  finger,  driven  back  the  surging 
blood,  and  held  it  back ;  yet  it  took  Esmarch  to  apply  this 
homely  trick  to  science.  He  did  it.  It  is  the  old  story  of 
Columbus  and  the  egg,  and  really  a  truer  and  better  one.  In 
olden  and  down  to  later  times  the  blood  always  followed  the 
surgeon's  knife.  Esmarch  commanded  the  blood  to  stand  still 
while  he  was  cutting  away  a  diseased  arm  or  leg,  and  it  did  so. 
This  was  his  triumph ;  a  simple  thing,  you  say ;  yes,  but  perfect. 
He  is  a  greater  man  to-day  than  Bismarck.  His  discovery  will 
last  longer  than  Bismarck,  longer  than  the  German  empire, 
strong  and  well  guarded  as  it  is.  Surgeons  will  stop  the  flow  of 
human  blood  with  Esmarch's  rubber  band  long  after  Bismarck  is 
forgotten.  The  one  will  live  forever;  the  other, — he  and  his 
fame  will  pass  away. 


414  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

PARISIAN   DAYS. 

Night  Turned  to  Day.  —  Pleasuring  in  the  Parks.  —  Place  Concord.  —  An 
Hour  with  Pasteur.  —  Hydrophobia  Antidote.  —  Sending  Patients 
away  Cured.  —  Preparing  and  Poisoning  Rabbits.  —  Bouillon  and  Poi- 
soned Spinal  Cord  and  Brain.  —  The  Uncertainty  Remains.  —  Great  is 
Pasteur,  None  the  Less. 

PARIS, —  Grand    Louvre,   fifth   story,  up   above  the  sur- 
rounding house-tops  ;  up  above  the  chimney-pots  ;  way 
up  above  the  noisy  streets,  but  not  above  the  noise.     The  noise 
is  not  of  men,  or  wheels  rattUng  o'er  the  stony  streets,  but  of 
the  feet  of  myriad  horses.     The  wheels  glide  noiselessly  o'er  the 
asphalt  roads,  smooth  as  polished  marble  ;  but  the  clack,  clack, 
clack  of  countless  horses'  feet  outrage  the  quiet  air,  din  your 
ears  by  day,  and  balk  your  sleep  by  night.     You  may  have  read 
of  Paris,  —  city  without  day  or  night ;  no  stated  time  to  eat  or 
sleep ;  no  time  to  go  to  bed  or  rise.     When  the  sun  gets  tired 
and  sinks  away  to  rest,  mankind  should  follow  his  excellent  ex- 
ample, —  undress  and  go  to  bed,  even  as  Nature  intended  them 
to  do.     Paris  cannot  see  it  so.     When  the  sun  sinks  down  to 
rest,  Paris  wakes  up,  puts  on  its  best  attire,  and  takes  no  sleep 
till  morning  hours.     Awake  at  twelve  o'clock,  the  street  is  all 
agog,  —  more  noise  of  hurrying  hoofs  than  at  the  midday  hour ; 
for  men  are  hurrying  to  and  fro,  the  sporting  points   are  all 
ablaze,  the  restaurants  are  all  aglow,  ten  thousand  lights  of  lamp 
and  cab  drive  all  the  darkness  out.     Wake  up  at  one,  two,  or 
three,  —  the  condensed  click  of  horses'  feet  still  finds  you  out ; 
breaks  through  your  shutters,  dins  your  ears,  for  day  is  not  yet 
done  on  Paris  streets.     The  lamps  are  burning  yet ;  the  car- 
riage lamps  are  yet  twinkling,  and  men  are  hurrying  to  and  fro 
from  place  to  place.   The  sunrise  hour  finds  all  the  streets  awake. 
The  pleasuring  world  has  gone  to  rest,  but  market  wagons  take 
the  streets,  going  and  coming  here  and  there  with  rattle,  roar, 
and  rumble.     The  Parisian  curtain  never  drops ;  the  play  goes 
on  forever. 


PARISIAN  DAYS.  415 

I  am  not  going  to  write  up  Paris.  It  has  been  done  before. 
You  cannot  help  Hking  it,  it  is  so  spacious,  airy,  clean  and 
bright  and  gay.  You  cannot  help  lingering  here,  the  pic- 
tures are  so  many  and  so  excellent ;  the  gardens  are  numerous 
and  full  of  trees  and  little  mimic  lakes  and  many  a  lovely  foun- 
tain ;  the  walks  and  drives  are  full  of  very  pretty  things  which 
stay  your  footsteps,  make  you  linger,  —  linger  and  wonder  when 
you  can  take  yourself  away.  You  eat  a  bit  of  bread  and  drink 
a  single  cup  of  coffee,  and  go  into  the  gardens.  You  wander 
among  flower-beds  and  linger  about  the  fountains.  You  feast 
upon  the  marble  folks  that  stand  aloft  on  pedestals  in  varying 
form  and  figure ;  you  wonder  at  the  gorgeous  flower-beds,  the 
exquisite  marbles,  and  glorious  things  in  bronze.  All  around 
are  palaces  ;  here  and  there  are  fountains ;  here  in  the  Place 
Concord,  the  tall  obelisk,  carved  from  the  granite  rock  some 
years  before  Joseph  was  born,  and  which  Joseph  saw,  stands 
mute  and  wondering  amid  the  hurrying  here  and  there. 

Here,  where  the  Egyptian  granite  stands,  once  stood  the 
guillotine.  You  know  the  guillotine,  —  that  swift-descending  bias 
axe  that  does  not  seem  to  hurt,  but  leaves  a  head  in  a  basket, 
clipped  from  the  neck  and  shoulders.  Ugh  !  But  it  stood 
there  !  —  the  upright  posts,  the  gleaming  knife  so  swift  to  fall. 
Better  the  obelisk  than  the  awful  axe.  It  is  the  civilization  of 
the  oldest  age  that  comes  to  stand  upon  the  horror-spot  of  this 
great  gifted  modern  city.  I  have  sat  here  by  this  machine  axe, 
and  wondered  if  the  days  of  Robespierre,  Marat,  and  the  grim 
Bastile  will  come  again.  Here  where  it  stands  is  the  Place 
Concord.  The  name  is  very  good,  but  much  blood  has  sunk 
into  the  ground  and  waits  for  expiation.  France  may  have 
changed  and  put  on  other  forms ;  but  the  blood  of  Marie 
Antoinette  is  fresh  upon  the  ground  as  though  she  died  but 
yesterday. 

But  this  is  history.  You  can  read  it  in  the  books.  You  will 
not  thank  me  for  historic  talk  ;  you  ask  for  something  fresh  ;  and 
here  it  is,  —  a  dead  rabbit.  You  have  heard  of  mad  dogs  and 
rabies.  You  know,  no  doubt,  that  if  you  were  bitten  by  a  rabid 
dog  you  would  yourself  become  rabid,  and  snarl  and  bite,  foam 
at  the  mouth,  and  die  an  awful  death.  The  subject  is  not  a 
pleasant  thing  to  talk  or  write  or  read  about ;  but  one  must  take 
the  world  as  he  finds  it. 


4l6  A    GIRDLE  ROUXD    THE  EARTH. 

Pasteur,  —  you  have  surely  heard  of  him.  You 'have  read 
with  horror  of  the  Jersey  City  children  who  were  bitten  by  a 
rabid  dog.  You  have  heard  how  sympathetic  folks  opened  their 
purses,  how  wealthy  men  like  Carnegie  unloosed  their  dollars, 
and  sent  the  doomed  little  ones  to  Paris  and  to  Pasteur.  They 
came ;  the  poison  in  their  blood  was  met  and  stopped.  The 
children  were  returned  unto  their  mothers'  arms,  healed  with- 
out a  miracle,  made  well  without  a  prayer. 

Not  that  people  did  n't  pray ;  they  did.  But  come  with  me 
to  the  laboratory  of  science.  I  would  not  take  from  prayer,  or 
laying  on  of  hands,  or  placing  on  of  relics  of  the  cross  or 
crown  or  thorns,  or  any  other  thing,  a  single  word ;  I  would 
not  tell  the  bishop  that  his  printed  prayers  for  rain  and  bounte- 
ous crops  are  vagaries,  mere  matter  of  form ;  for  you,  mayhap, 
and  he  believe  that  he  has  power  of  pen  and  tongue  to  swerve 
the  Almighty's  plans  and  purposes.  He  has  a  certain  pride  in 
thinking  so,  and  making  people  think  so  too. 

But  the  rabbit.  It  is  a  simple  thing.  Simples  are  sometimes 
very  serious.  There  was  a  man  who  met  the  scourge  of  small- 
pox face  to  face,  —  dared  it,  as  the  enchanter  dares  a  venomed 
snake,  and  baffled  it.  No  laying  on  of  hands  had  good  effect. 
He  invoked  poison  to  meet  and  baffle  poison.  He  took  your 
round  left  arm,  and  underneath  the  quivering  skin  injected 
poison,  —  inoculation.  You  know  full  well  the  result ;  you  know 
this  latent  poison,  sent  aforetime  all  along  the  blood,  met  there 
the  awful  small-pox  poison,  and  thwarted  it. 

Now  come  away  to  Pasteur's  rooms,  over  across  the  Seine. 
A  hundred  patients  meet  him  every  day.  Not  one  in  a  thou- 
sand has  the  rabies  ;  but  he  meets  them  all  and  hears  each 
special  case,  —  shoots  hypodermic  shots  into  their  blood,  and 
each  one  goes  home  cured  !  You  know  how  it  is ;  you  know 
how  you  love  to  talk  about  having  been  very,  very  sick,  —  of 
being  on  the  very  brink  of  death,  when  in  fact  you  were  nowhere 
near  it.  But  the  Pasteur-treated  people  go  home  and  certainly 
believe  that  they  were  saved  from  impending  death.  You  would 
do  so  yourself;  for  you  have  told  of  ills  you  never  had,  and 
tried  to  make  your  friends  believe  that  in  your  back  or  brain  you 
were  most  sorely  affected. 

But  we  will  go  and  see  the  rabbits.  The  operator  has  a  dead 
one  in  a  basket.     The  rabbit  was  poisoned  ten  or  fourteen  days 


PARISIAN  DA  YS.  4 1 7 

ago  ;  now  it  is  dead  ;  died  of  rabies,  —  hydrophobia.  Skin 
him  all  along  the  back,  —  all  along  the  spinal  column.  You 
have  a  spinal  column,  just  as  a  rabbit  has.  You  feel  it  down 
your  back.  When  you  feel  stout  and  vain  and  proud,  you 
stand  up  quite  erect,  and  toss  your  empty  head.  This  is  be- 
cause your  spinal  column  is  in  perfect  order,  —  exuberant. 
But  when  things  go  rather  bad  your  spinal  column  wilts ;  your 
shoulders  drop  ;  you  can't  look  up.  You  think  your  brain  is  in 
your  skull,  —  and  it  may  partly  be  ;  but  it  is  also  in  your  back- 
bone, —  the  inner  spinal  cord,  of  which  the  human  brain  is  but 
the  blossoming. 

The  rabbit  died,  they  say,  of  rabies  ;  not  a  clew  of  proof  that 
he  so  died,  but  merely  an  assumption.  Now,  then,  the  most 
sensitive  part  of  this  dead  rabbit  was  its  brain  and  spinal  cord. 
It  is  the  same  with  you ;  for  from  the  spinal  cord  spring  all  the 
nerves.  Injure  the  brain,  and  you  are  dead?  Not  so.  Injure 
the  spinal  cord  ;  cut  it ;  you  are  dead.  Why  ?  It  is  the  secret 
seat  of  life  and  nervous  action. 

The  rabbit  is  dead,  —  died  last  night  of  hydrophobia.  The 
Pasteur  operator  takes  it  from  its  basket  cage  and  lays  it  on  a 
board  upon  its  belly.  He  forceps  away  its  skull  and  vertebrae. 
Along  the  top  of  the  skull  and  backbone  he  makes  his  course, 
tearing  away  the  protecting  bones  until  the  entire  brain  and 
spinal  cord  are  all  laid  bare.  It  is  a  pretty  job.  You  should 
go  to  the  anatomic  room  some  day  and  see  a  human  figure,  — 
see  it  when  laid  upon  its  face,  the  skull  and  spinal  bones  all 
torn  away,  and  see  the  brain  and  the  long  white  spinal  cord 
laid  cold  and  bare ;  most  wondrous  sight !  Here  are  thought 
and  act  and  energy  !  You  say  you  think  with  your  brain.  Partly 
right.  You  think  as  well  with  the  spinal  cord  that  traverses  your 
back,  just  there  behind  your  shoulders  and  your  kidneys.  You 
deny  it  ?  Look  out !  The  man  who  denies  must  prove,  as  well 
as  he  who  asserts. 

But  the  rabbit.  He  lies  upon  the  clinic  board.  The  Pasteur 
expert  has  laid  the  spinal  cord  quite  bare,  —  bare  from  brain 
to  tip  of  spine.  See  him  !  His  cold  steel  forceps  pick  up  the 
lower  spinal  end  of  the  canal  of  hfe  and  thought,  and  as  he 
picks  it  up,  he  with  his  other  hand  cuts  here  and  there  a  branch- 
ing cord,  a  nerve,  a  stringy  fixture  ;  the  strings  he  cuts  are 
cords  of  life,  —  telegraph  lines.     One  tells  of  pains  within  the 

27 


41 8  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

head  ;  one  tells  of  joys  of  hearth  and  home  ;  one  tells  of  lusts, 
and  one  of  hope ;  hope,  love,  and  pain,  each  nerve  is  being 
cut,  as  up  he  pulls  the  greater  cord  of  life,  —  up  past  the  hips, 
up  past  the  kidneys,  up  along  the  body,  up  between  the  shoul- 
der-blades, he  snips  and  pulls  the  marrow  of  the  spine  ;  up  to 
the  neck  and  through  the  neck,  up  to  the  brain,  he  clips  and 
pulls  the  marrow  cord,  till  cord  and  brain  are,  all  in  one,  by  skil- 
ful hand  laid  now  upon  the  table  !  This  is  the  human  or  in- 
human life. 

What  good  ?  Now  take  a  pound  or  two  of  beef,  and  boil  it 
well  in  water.  Skim  off  the  grease.  What  is  left  is  bouillon.  The 
bouillon  is  rich  water,  sterilized;  it  has  been  boiled;  no  life 
germ  left !  Now  cut  up  the  rabbit's  spine  and  brain,  impreg- 
nated, they  say,  with  rabies ;  cut  and  macerate  it ;  mix  it 
now  with  the  sterilized  bouillon.  What  for?  To  make  a 
poisoned  fluid  mess  !  From  this  poison  stuff  and  the  bouillon, 
you  have  a  fiendish  broth,  —  an  antidote  for  rabies,  for  mad- 
dog  poison.  Take  a  little  syringe,  and  squirt  this  liquid  into 
the  human  blood  with  hypodermic  push.  The  poison  so  sent 
home  into  the  human  blood  meets  the  poison  that  the  hydro- 
phobic dog  implanted  in  those  veins ;  the  one  the  other  meets, 
and  fights  it  out,  like  the  Kilkenny  cats,  till  nothing  more  is 
left ;  the  patient  lives.  Poison  from  the  rabbit's  backbone 
cord  has  met  the  poison  of  the  dog's  most  rabid  tooth,  —  met  it 
in  equal  fight,  as  vaccine  virus  meets  the  small-pox  curse  and 
conquers  it ! 

Dost  thou  believe?  No?  Then  read  over  again,  and  re- 
member. 

The  rabbit  died  of  poison ;  died  flayed  upon  the  cHnic  cross 
that  you  might  live,  — you,  doomed  to  die  of  hydrophobia  ! 
Small  means,  you  say ;  yet  he  who  sees  and  won't  beheve  is 
doomed. 

It  shakes  one  up  to  see  this  curious  test;  tries  his  belief; 
and  yet,  when  Ave  look  back  and  think  of  vaccine  experiments, 
what  have  we  to  say?  Nothing.  We  pause,  try  to  be  serious, 
ask  for  reasons  ;  the  oracle  answers  nothing  !  It  gives  results  — 
gives  nothing  else.  The  child,  the  wife,  the  husband  dear, 
goes  home  cured  as  if  by  medicinal  miracle ;  this  and  nothing 
more. 

A  half  dozen  pretty  rabbits  lie  within  their  wicker   cages  ; 


PARISIA N  DAYS.  4 1 9 

food  they  are  for  experimental  rabies  !  Lovely,  fluffy  rabbits ; 
eyes  of  innocence  and  coats  of  softest  down ;  and  how  we 
pitied  them,  —  a  sacrifice  !  Catch  up  a  pretty  one.  How  inno- 
cent its  looks,  perfect  its  form,  pleading  its  eyes  !  The  attend- 
ant jams  it  on  a  board,  spreads  out  its  furry  legs,  ties  each 
extended  leg  well  out  with  cruel  strings.  See  how  the  victim 
kicks,  and  tries  to  spring  !  No  use.  The  Pasteur  agent  holds 
the  gray  pet  down,  and  gives  it  sleepy  chloroform.  The  rabbit 
kicks  and  squirms,  but  o'er  its  senses  steals  a  deathly  sleep,  and 
it  lies  down,  o'ercome,  to  quiet  rest.  Now  look.  The  Pasteur 
man  shears  off  the  rabbit's  soft  hair ;  then  lays  bare  the  cra- 
nium ;  then  with  a  sharp  trephining  instrument  bores  through 
the  dormant  skull,  and  then  with  silver  syringe  charged  with 
bouillon  sterilized  and  macerated  poisoned  rabbit's  viscera,  he 
shoots  it  into  the  cavity.  Of  course  the  patient  takes  the  stuff, 
and  dies  in  ten  or  twelve  or  fourteen  days,  —  maybe  from  pa- 
ralysis or  poison  ;  who  can  tell?  This,  at  all  events,  is  the  way 
in  which  the  poison  is  prepared ;  what  follows  you  must  guess. 

This  brings  me  back  again  to  other  days.  A  friend  was  bitten 
by  a  maddened  dog.  Death  looked  him,  so  he  believed  and 
feared,  squarely  in  the  face.  What  to  him  was  allopath  or 
homoepath  ?  He  wanted  only  life.  He  went  to  the  "  mad- 
stone  "  quack,  and  applied  the  stone  to  his  wound.  It  sucked 
clean  the  rabid  wound  ;  the  patient  lived.  What  shall  we  say? 
We  ask  the  doctor  this.  He  calls  me  a  fool  to  talk  of  mad- 
stones.  "  No  such  a  thing  exists  or  could  exist.  Your  friend 
had  no  poison  in  his  blood." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  had  none?  " 

"  Because  if  he  had  he  would  have  died  of  it." 

"  But  he  was  bitten  by  a  dog  that  bit  and  poisoned  others. 
How  do  you  —  how  does  Pasteur  —  know  whether  his  bitten 
patients  have  been  poisoned  or  not?  " 

"  He  does  n't  know ;  he  takes  it  on  trust,  and  injects  into  the 
blood  what  he  conceives  would  be  an  antidote  for  the  poison, 
should  any  be  present." 

"  Do  all  his  patients  live?" 

"  No  ;  some  of  them  die,  —  a  few,  I  hear." 

"  Is  n't  it  possible,  then,  that  such  as  live  were  not  poisoned 
at  all ;  and  that  those  who  die  were  really  the  poisoned  ones?  " 

"  Maybe  ;  no  one  alive  can  tell." 


420 


A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 


But  Pasteur  is  great  in  Paris.  Patients  come  flocking  to  him 
by  the  hundreds,  who  are  treated  without  price.  Heaven  grant 
his  greatness  may  not  vanish  !  When  the  truth  of  the  theory 
will  be  established  none  can  tell,  for  there  seems  to  be  no  way 
of  teUing  whether  a  patient  is  really  poisoned  or  not  until  it  is 
too  late  to  make  a  cure.  We  went  to  see  the  man  the  world 
now  talks  so  much  about ;  to  see  his  operations,  see  his  way  of 
making  cures  and  preparing  the  antidote.  We  went  for  infor- 
mation ;  we  got  some,  but  took  a  lot  on  trust,  and  came  away, 
hoping  the  theory  might  some  time  be  proved  beyond  a  doubt. 


OLD  ENGLAND.  42 1 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

OLD   ENGLAND. 

Going  down  to  Essex.  —  Sunday  Rules.  —  Among  the  Hounds  and 
Horses. — The  Greatness  of  London.  —  What  London  Eats  and 
Drinks. — The  Little  Island  of  Jersey. — Jersey  People  and  Cattle. 
—  Farming  on  the  Island. 

"  TT  ERE  is  my  card,  and  when  you  get  around  to  London 
Y   1      don't  forget  to  let  me  know.     I  can  always  be  found 
by  a  note  in  care  of  my  club,  the  Junior  Carleton.     Look  me 
up,  and  we  can  knock  about  a  bit,  you  know." 

That  was  what  the  major  said  to  me  one  evening  eleven 
months  ago  at  the  Grand  Hotel  in  Yokohama.  He,  —  ALajor 
W.  H.  Allsopp,  of  the  famous  Allsopp  brewing-house,  —  he  and 
a  younger  brother,  somewhat  out  of  health,  were  cruising  about 
the  world  with  sanitary  motives  ;  had  been  to  Australia  and 
New  Zealand ;  then  across  to  San  Francisco ;  looked  about 
among  the  stables,  for  nothing  fills  the  major's  eye  so  full  as 
well-bred  horses  \  then  back  to  Australia  again  by  way  of  Yoko- 
hama. As  he  left  to  go  aboard  the  "  Kasghar,"  we  said  a  hearty 
good-by  and  promised  to  look  him  up. 

You  may  have  heard  it  said  that  Englishmen  are  not  quite 
genial  as  travelling  companions ;  that  they  are  too  reticent  and 
too  much  self-contained,  hard  to  draw  out  and  get  acquainted 
with.  That  depends.  We  have  not  found  it  so  ;  and  yet  the 
major  seemed  for  quite  two  weeks  to  support  the  theory. 
Though  we  messed  at  the  same  table,  walked  the  same  deck, 
watched  the  same  gulls,  we  didn't  get  acquainted.  He  was 
extremely  self-contained,  and  seemed  to  be  a  man  in  some  way 
out  of  sorts  with  most  of  the  world,  as  though  he  had  met  some 
great  misfortune  in  business,  love,  or  his  estate,  and  was  court- 
ing introspection.  The  passengers  remarked  upon  it ;  felt  sorry 
that  such  a  fine-looking  man,  polite  and  dignified,  should  mix 
so  little  with  the  rest. 


422  A   GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

But  there  Is  a  common  meeting-ground  for  all,  if  you  can 
only  find  it.  With  some  it  is  in  the  field  of  politics ;  with 
others  religion,  scientific  talk,  music,  or  art.  Ours  was  farming. 
Horses,  cattle,  farming  tools  ;  somehow  we  broke  the  ice  in  that 
direction,  and  had  no  further  lack  of  talk  material.  But  the 
oddity  of  the  thing  !  The  major  had  no  farm,  nor  wanted  any ; 
but  his  innate  love  for  bright,  well-bred,  active  horses,  sheep, 
cattle,  or  dogs  made  him  a  hearty  friend  of  farmers  and  fields 
and  farming  ways.  Shut  up  in  London  all  the  while,  save  his 
annual  six  weeks'  outing  with  his  regiment,  and  now  and  then 
an  ocean  trip,  he  finds  his  chiefest  pleasure  down  in  Essex 
among  the  fox-hounds  or  round  about  among  the  farming  folk 
who  keep  good  horses. 

So,  when  getting  around  to  London,  of  course  the  major  was 
looked  in  upon,  in  his  cosey  chambers  in  Old  Bond  Street. 
Some  cordial  greeting,  some  reminiscences  of  the  voyage  and 
passengers,  and  — 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  pack  of  hounds,  —  real  fox-hounds?" 
asked  the  colonel.     For  since  we  saw  him  he  has  been  pro- 
moted in  his  regiment,  and  we  now  call  him  colonel ;  and  as 
his  father  has  just  been  made  a  baron,  the  colonel  is  also  now 
an   honorable.     Well,   he   carries   his   honors  very  easily,  and 
talks  farming  talk  just  the  same  as  ever. 
"  No,  I  never  saw  a  pack." 
"Would  you  like  to?" 
"  Most  certainly." 

"  This  is  Friday.  Meet  me  Sunday  morning  at  Liverpool 
Street  station,  eight  o'clock,  and  we  will  have  a  quiet  day  in 
Essex,  unless  you  have  scruples.  I  like  a  quiet  resting  day  out 
in  the  open  air.  There  is  nothing  here  in  London  half  as 
good." 

I  had  no  scruples  of  that  sort,  none  I  could  really  think  of, 
and  told  him  so.  Broad,  green  fields  and  clumps  of  trees ; 
springy  turf  and  horses,  cows  and  sheep  and  shade  and  run- 
ning streams,  —  what  other  place  has  such  a  charm  on  Sun- 
day ?  The  great  green  country-carpet  decked  with  hedge-rows, 
trees,  and  bordering  brooks,  and  bright-blue  heaven  over  all,  is 
indeed  a  place  to  worship  in. 

"  Now,  then,  at  eight  o'clock  the  train  will  start.  Bring  along 
your  friends  and  have  a  little  party.    We  can  get  some  breakfast 


OLD  ENGLAND.  423 

down  at  Harlow,  see  the  pack,  then  take  a  trap  and  ride  away 
to  Elsenham  Hall,  see  Pedometer  and  the  great  Shire  horses, 
drive  back  to  Bishop  Stortford,  lunch,  and  take  the  train  back 
to  London  in  time  for  dinner." 

We  laid  by  our  napkins,  walked  around  a  square  or  two,  and 
said  good-by,  to  meet  on  Sunday  morning. 

The  doctor  and  the  bishop  needed  no  urging.  We  were  at 
the  station  at  half-past  seven,  —  so  early  that  we  might  get  a 
cup  and  roll  before  starting.  Inquiring  the  way  to  the  station 
restaurant,  the  guard  on  duty  told  us  it  was  Sunday ;  that  they 
did  n't  serve  coffee  on  the  day  of  rest ! 

"  But  you  run  trains,  do  you  not?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  three  or  four  trains  only  on  Sunday,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  But  we  drink  coffee  Sunday  mornings  just  as  on  any  other ; 
now  be  so  very  good  as  to  earn  our  kind  regards,  and  some- 
thing more,  by  helping  us  to  find  a  coffee-room."  That  was 
said  to  music,  —  pocket  sounds ;  clinking  of  small  coin.  He 
said  he  'd  try  ;  and  try  he  did  ;  and  came  right  back  and  led  us 
to  the  proper  door,  which  was  unlocked  against  the  rule,  and 
we  were  well  served.  Others  banged  the  door  without  reply. 
They  wanted  coffee,  too,  but  got  none. 

Right  here  a  word.  Close  by  that  station,  almost  anywhere, 
you  could  get  whiskey,  brandy,  gin,  and  wine  ;  no  tea  or  coffee. 
This  great  railroad  line  could  run  its  trains  and  work  its  men  all 
day,  sell  tickets,  —  any  class  you  like,  —  but  shuts  its  restaurant 
on  Sundays.  Open  on  all  other  days,  closed  on  the  holy 
Sabbath  day,  turning  the  thirsty  ones  into  the  back  doors  of  the 
gin-shops.  The  Sunday  morning  before,  we  tramped  about  an 
hour  to  find  a  coffee-shop.  No  end  of  them,  all  closed ;  bar- 
rooms open  at  the  back.  Well,  it's  a  way  they  have,  —  "  It  's 
English,  you  know,"  but  devilish,  and  should  be  reformed.  In 
the  city  there  is  not  a  coffee-house  or  restaurant  open  on  Sun- 
day, nor  at  West  End  till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  But 
you  need  not  go  thirsty  if  rum  will  quench  it ;  for  while  the  pub- 
lics are  theoretically  closed,  they  are  practically  quite  open. 

The  way  down  into  Essex  is  very  charming.  The  landscape  is 
bright  and  clear,  without  a  hint  of  the  parched  and  hungry  look 
that  want  of  rain  brings  on.  The  hedge- framed  fields  are  very 
clean  and  neat,  with  countless  round-topped  shady  trees,  and 
willowy  trees   along  the  brooks,  and  shady  tree-rows  here  and 


424  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

there,  and  random  trees  about  the  fields.  The  fields  are  gar- 
dens, —  most  part  m  roots  for  market  use,  with  now  and  then  a 
patch  of  wheat,  and  here  and  there  a  plat  of  oats.  At  every 
station  step  off  a  dozen  or  a  score  of  fishermen,  —  clerks  from 
the  city,  men  of  wage,  who  come  with  rod  and  reel  and  lun- 
cheon-box to  sit  all  day  beneath  the  shade  ;  to  angle  all  day  for 
fish  that  never  come.  But  they  have  their  fishing,  outing,  lunch, 
and  have  some  hours  of  royal  rest,  —  a  taste  of  beauteous  earth 
and  heaven  that  smoky  London  cannot  give. 

Stepping  out  at  Harlow  we  took  the  footpath  through  the 
fields  of  grass  and  golden  wheat.  These  English  country  paths 
are  neatly  kept  highways  for  footmen  ;  as  much  highways  or 
public  ways,  and  as  sacredly  dedicated  to  the  public  use,  as 
are  the  broader  carriage-roads.  They  go  cross-lots  and  through 
the  fields,  along  the  winding  streams  and  dells  and  lovely  water 
brooks.  They  are  not  bridle-paths,  —  no  horse  could  pass  the 
wicket-gates,  —  simply  for  such  as  go  on  foot,  but  neat  and 
right  well  kept. 

"Could  you  kindly  give  us  four  breakfasts?"  the  colonel 
asked  the  tidy  serving-maid  at  the  Green  INIan's  Inn.  She 
could. 

"  It  will  not  keep  you  from  church,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  we  go  to  church  at  eleven,  sir ;  now  it 's  just  past 
nine." 

"  Serve  it  in  the  commercial  room,  when  we  return  from  the 
kennels." 

The  kennels  were  six  minutes'  walk  away,  and  the  huntsman 
was  there  to  show  his  pets.  First  the  dogs,  —  a  well-kept  pack 
of  forty  hounds,  tan  and  white,  with  pendent  ears  and  keen 
bright  eyes,  each  answering  to  his  name  and  coming  from  the 
pack  on  call.  The  bitches  were  a  jolly  lot  of  thoroughbreds, — 
better  hunters  than  the  dogs,  the  huntsman  said,  but  not  so 
keen  of  scent  on  a  dull  trail.  The  crop  of  pups  was  splendid,  — 
a  kennel  full  of  playful  brats  just  spoiling  to  get  out. 

The  kennels  are  large  airy  rooms  in  long  low  brick  buildings 
fitted  up  for  comfort.  The  floors  of  the  rooms  and  outer  yard 
are  neatly  flagged  with  well-dressed  stone,  and  kept  as  clean  as 
a  kitchen.  The  food  consists  of  oatmeal  pudding  and  minced 
horseflesh  mixed  together,  wetted  and  poured  into  shallow 
troughs,  around  which  the  beauties  stand  and  help  themselves, 


OLD  ENGLAND.  425 

—  coming  to  breakfast,  not  in  a  helter-skelter  rush,  but  as  their 
names  are  called.  The  pens  are  separate ;  and  many  there 
are  for  different  sexes,  ages,  and  conditions.  The  kennels  are 
close  by  Mr.  William  Bambridge,  of  the  Green  Man's  Inn ;  and 
Mr.  Loftus  Arkwright  is  master,  and  Mr.  Bailey  huntsman. 
Among  the  pack  were  several  fine  samples  presented  by  Colonel 
Allsopp  some  six  years  ago,  when  the  bitch  pack  had  to  be 
shot  on  account  of  what  they  call  dumb-madness.  The  colonel 
sets  great  store  by  his  fall  hunt,  and  is  never  backward  in  pro- 
moting the  interests  of  wholesome  sport.  His  friends  down 
there  do  not  forget  it,  but  hold  him  in  high  esteem. 

The  Green  Man's  Inn  is  very  fresh  and  clean  ;  we  had  a 
comfortable  breakfast  between  four  walls  decked  out  with  lively 
hunting  scenes.  We  looked  about  the  stables,  played  with  the 
bouncing  baby,  greeted  the  invalid  host,  and  had  a  chat ;  then 
drove  away  to  Elsenham.  If  you  have  poetry  within  your  soul, 
or  love  of  Nature's  pictures  in  your  heart ;  if  you  love  quiet  land- 
scapes, fields  aglow  with  green  and  gold,  bright  veined  with 
limpid  streams,  and  dotted  here  and  there  with  cottage  thatch 
and  barns  and  ricks,  and  flowered  hedge  and  mossy  bridge, 
and  kirk-bells  ringing  far  and  near,  and  over  all  the  well-tem- 
pered sun, — if  you  like  all  this  and  scenes  much  lovelier  far 
than  words  of  mine  can  tell,  then  you  should  ride  from  Green 
Man's  Inn  across  the  field  to  Elsenham. 

It  is  the  country-seat  of  Mr.  Walter  Gilbey,  a  well-known 
gentleman  whose  apparent  mission  seems  to  have  been  to  sur- 
round himself  with  a  rather  large  and  exceedingly  comely  family  ; 
to  make  a  home  of  comfort,  tinged  with  luxury  ;  to  till  five  hun- 
dred acres  in  such  a  generous  way  that  he  and  those  around 
him  might  gain  benefits.  He  is  a  horse-farmer,  gives  large 
attention  to  the  Shire  horse  sort,  —  the  sturdiest,  fairest,  best- 
boned  horse  of  all  the  large  horse  kind  ;  these  and  the  hackneys, 
not  so  large  ;  these  and  Pedometer  by  King  Tom,  a  noted 
hunting  breed. 

The  array  of  horseflesh  was  very  extensive  and  interesting. 
The  show  animals  had  but  lately  come  in  from  the  general  ex- 
hibition, where  they  had  won  great  honors ;  several  of  them 
were  the  first  awards.  It  was  well  worth  while  to  see  the  best  of 
all  the  English  stallions,  especially  the  noble  County  j\Iember, 
whose  fine  movement,  with  high  knee-action,  makes  his  kind 


426  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

earnestly  sought  after  for  high  coach  and  carriage  work.  These 
superb  creatures  were  kept  at  the  hall  for  the  benefit  of  surround- 
ing county  stock,  in  which  enterprise  their  owner  is  most  liberal. 
Pedometer  is  the  colonel's  favorite.  He  sung  his  praises  out 
on  the  Pacific,  describing  him  quite  perfectly.  The  colonel 
keeps  no  farm  or  mares,  but  raises  hunting  stock  by  contract 
with  the  farmers. 

*  •  •  •  •  ■  • 

Loitering  in  London  these  charming  August  days ;  vibrating 
between  Trafalgar  Square  and  Westminster,  Westminster  and 
the  Bank ;  from  the  National  Gallery  to  South  Kensington ; 
from  Soho  Square  to  Covent  Garden ;  from  Haymarket  to 
the  Criterion ;  from  Crosby  Hall  to  Regent's  Park  and  Zoozoo 
dens  ;  from  Apsley  House  to  Marble  Arch  ;  from  London  Tower 
to  Dore's  gems ;  from  park  to  park,  street  to  street,  and  play 
to  play,  —  and  not  forgetting  the  stores  and  dining-rooms,  — 
that  is  a  part  of  what  we  do  in  London,  waiting  here  till  our 
ship  comes  on  to  take  us  home. 

How  large  is  Iowa,  how  many  people  ?  Oh,  fifteen  hundred 
thousand.  How  large  is  Illinois,  her  older  sister  State?  Say 
three  millions  and  a  quarter,  —  five  millions,  about,  in  both,  and 
a  hundred  and  eleven  thousand  square  miles. 

How  large  is  London?  The  city  covers  six  hundred  and 
ninety  square  miles,  —  about  twenty  townships  ;  and  the  popula- 
tion is  about  the  same  as  those  two  States  combined.  Huddle 
all  the  people  in  Illinois  and  Iowa  into  Scott  County,  Iowa ;  build 
that  county  over  with  streets  and  parks  and  public  squares  ;  that 
is  to  say,  when  every  inch  of  land  is  sewered,  gased,  and  water- 
piped,  and  all  the  people  of  both  States  are  gathered  there,  the 
aggregate  would  be  about  like  that  of  London. 

To  be  particular,  Rome  has  not  so  many  Roman  Catholics  as 
London  ;  Dublin  has  fewer  Irishmen  than  London  ;  Edinburgh 
fewer  Scotchmen ;  and  Jews  —  why,  all  Jud?ea  has  not  one 
tenth  as  many.  And  yet  it  is  growing  every  day.  Every  four 
minutes  marks  a  birth  ;  even  while  I  spend  two  hours  in  writ- 
ing, thirty  babes  will  have  been  born,  and  twenty  deaths  will 
have  taken  place.  The  evening  paper  that  records  the  births 
and  the  deaths  of  the  previous  four-and-twenty  hours  must  give 
three  hundred  separate  items.  Verily,  its  joys  and  sorrows  are 
a  multitude. 


OLD  ENGLAND.  427 

It  is  thirty-five  lumdred  miles'  journey  from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco,  You  can  walk,  say,  twenty  miles  a  day  ;  well,  it 
would  take  you  a  hundred  and  seventy-five  days  at  that  rate  to 
make  the  trip.  But  London  has  seven  thousand  miles  of 
streets ;  and  if  you  took  them  afoot  at  a  rate  of  twenty  miles 
a  day  you  would  have  to  walk  almost  a  year,  and  more  than 
a  year  by  nearly  fifty  days  if  you  kept  Sundays.  And  if  you 
v.'ere  a  thirsty  sort  of  traveller,  and  could  n't  pass  a  drinking 
shop,  don't  be  alarmed,  —  the  trip  has  five-and-seventy  miles  of 
drinking  shops,  publics  they  call  them ;  so  none  need  think  of 
thirst. 

How  do  these  people  live  ?  As  you  do,  —  by  eating.  They 
eat  a  lot.  I  can't  go  into  details,  but  you  can  take  your  slates 
and  figure  up  how  much  they  swallow  every  day ;  for  in  a 
year  these  London  folks  devour  five  hundred  thousand  oxen, 
two  million  sheep,  two  hundred  thousand  calves,  three  hundred 
thousand  swine,  eight  million  head  of  fowls,  five  hundred  mil- 
lion pounds  of  fish,  five  hundred  million  oysters,  two  hundred 
million  lobsters.  Add  to  these  four  million  tons  of  canned 
goods,  no  end  of  fruit  and  eggs  and  other  things  ;  but,  not  to 
spoil  your  appetite  talking  of  beans  and  peas  and  fifty  million 
bushels  of  wheat,  we  might  as  well  forbear. 

But  how  they  wash  all  this  food  down,  you  might  feel  glad  to 
know.  Look  sharp.  It  takes  two  hundred  million  quarts  of 
beer  !  A  stream  of  beer  about  the  size  of  the  Jordan  would  not 
suffice  to  quench  the  common  thirst ;  for  they  drink  ten  million 
quarts  of  rum,  and  fifty  million  quarts  of  wine,  —  the  wine,  the 
rum,  the  beer,  two  hundred  and  sixty  million  quarts  !  Any 
water  ?  Some,  for  cooking  and  sprinkling  streets,  —  about  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  millions  of  gallons  daily.  Taking  out  the  water 
used  for  sprinkling,  cooking,  and  fountains,  and  the  actual 
drinking  supply  is  desperately  small. 

Any  temperance  people  ?  Yes  ;  plenty  of  them  ;  but  they  only 
seemed  to  make  more  drinking  for  those  who  are  not.  The 
supply  is  about  so  large,  and  has  to  be  consumed.  True,  the 
Government  says  there  is  a  sad  falling  off  of  late  in  spirits  rev- 
enues, but  it  is  difficult  to  see  where.  You  see  more  drunken- 
ness in  a  single  hour  in  London  than  on  the  entire  continent  of 
Europe  —  all  Asia  thrown  in,  and  Africa  too  —  in  a  whole  year. 
But  London  is  a  great  city  —  and  very  thirsty.     You  go  to 


428  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

Liverpool  or  Glasgow,  go  to  lovely  Edinburgh,  or  up  to  Hull  or 
Leeds,  Mancliester  or  Inverness,  and  it  is  about  as  bad,  —  deep 
drunkenness  and  deeper  damning  sins  than  drunkenness  ram- 
pant in  the  streets. 

On  Sabbath-day  no  such  abstemiousness  is  found  in  all  the 
world  as  in  these  cities  I  have  named ;  that  is,  from  midnight 
Saturday  night,  when  all  the  dens  and  boozing  kens  are  closed 
in  front,  till  Sunday  afternoon  an  hour  at  one  o'clock,  and 
later  on  at  six.  You  will  fail  to  get  a  cup  of  coffee  Sunday 
morning  in  any  public  coffee  place.  Open  are  the  churches 
and  tobacco  shops  ;  no  place  to  eat,  no  pubhc  place  to  drink, 
—  only  at  hotels  and  "round  the  other  way."  How  happens 
this  ?  The  policeman  said  in  confidence,  "  They  got  so  beastly 
drunk  on  Saturday  night  it  takes  all  Sunday  up  to  six  o'clock  to 
sleep  off  sober." 

Now  this  is  Saturday  night  from  nine  to  twelve  o'clock. 
You  come  with  me.  Leave  your  watch  and  all  but  a  few  silver 
coins  at  home.  Dive  into  the 'worst  and  through  the  best  of 
streets.  The  drinking  shops  and  boozing  kens  are  many,  and 
loafing  crowds  are  all  around ;  they  are  drinking  full  and  filling  up 
their  jugs.  You  see  the  men  and  women  too  —  God  pity  us  !  — 
the  little  ones,  —  the  very  children  coming  out  with  pots  of  beer 
and  jugs  of  rum,  scudding  home  with  this  the  Sunday  drinking 
store.  The  rich  can  have  it  in  their  cellar  stock  ;  the  poor  will 
have  it  in  their  pots  and  jugs  ;  and  so  the  ruin  race  goes  on. 

But  let  us  talk  of  other  things.  One  can't  help  liking  Lon- 
don. If  you  come  here  from  Paris  you  may  wish  you  had  not ; 
but  do  not  hurry ;  see  her  works  of  art  and  curious  things  ; 
visit  her  schools  and  churches,  her  law  courts  and  jails.  Her 
streets  are  excellent ;  her  sanctuaries  grand,  and  sometimes  beau- 
tiful ;  her  docks  spread  over  townships'  space  ;  her  parks  are 
broad  and  bounteous,  springy-turfed,  with  winsome  lake  and 
shade.  She  has  many  faults.  You  know  it,  for  there  are  over 
two  hundred  thousand  habitual  criminals  in  her  jails ;  one  pris- 
oner for  twenty-five  freemen  is  rather  many,  but,  —  but  some 
great  divine  has  figured  out  that  about  one  of  earth's  sons  in 
every  thousand  manages  to  get  into  heaven,  while  the  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety-nine  drop  into  the  other  place  without  an  effort. 
So,  unless  there  is  some  mistake  in  the  calculation,  London  has 
a  better  showing  than  the  averaffe. 


OLD  ENGLAND.  429 

Last  evening  I  went  up  to  Spurgeon's  church.  It  was  crowded 
with  saints  and  sinners  ;  some  Londoners  and  lots  of  travellers. 
You  can't  see  London  shows  and  not  see  Spurgeon's  church. 
He  is  not  a  handsome  man,  nor  yet  a  man  of  eloquence ;  but 
he  has  a  brusque,  positive,  sledge-hammer  sort  of  way  that  hits 
the  kind  of  a  nail  he  drives  square  upon  the  head  with  such 
powerful  blows  as  drives  it  home,  and  clinches  it.  So  does  old 
Dion  Boucicault  at  Prince's  Theatre,  who  has  made  more  people 
weep  than  Spurgeon  ever  did,  over  the  woes,  the  sins,  the  fol- 
lies of  men.  Both  places  seem  to  me  to  be  a  sort  of  show, 
—  both  draw,  both  call  the  travellers  in,  and  all  feel  somehow 
that  they  entered  neither  place  in  vain.  Maybe  it 's  not  quite 
right  to  get  the  pulpit  and  the  stage  so  close  together ;  but  what 
you  see  and  feel  and  what  another  sees  and  feels  may  not  be  to 
both  convincing  truth,  so  let  it  pass ;  let  us  talk  of  things  to  eat. 

Since  you  must  eat  or  die,  you  have  more  interest  in  bread 
and  meat  than  in  pulpit,  pew,  or  theatre  You  may  not  like  to 
have  it  said,  but  when  a  sermon  or  a  part  becomes  too  long, 
and  you  get  hungry  for  bread  and  beef,  you  wish  the  preacher 
would  "  round  to  "  and  say  amen. 

I  said  some  hundred  lines  ago  that  so  many  million  oxen, 
sheep,  and  calves  were  chewed  between  these  London  teeth 
and  sent  into  the  London  maw.  Where  do  they  come  from? 
Great  Britain  can't  provide  them.  Why,  if  Britons  had  to  live 
on  Lush,  Scotch,  and  British  beef,  they  'd  starve  within  a  week. 
Britons  get  hungry  every  day  —  and  thirsty.  They  can  make  up 
beer  and  rum  and  wine  enough  out  of  poor  water  and  malt  and 
chemicals  to  quench  the  general  thirst ;  but  when  it  comes  to 
mutton,  beef,  and  pork,  they  cannot ;  so  they  must  hunt  afar. 
The  doctor  said  to  us  one  day,  "  Come  down  to  Ledenhall. 
Here  is  a  card."  We  piled  into  a  cab  and  went.  We  met  a 
gentleman  who  said,  "  Come  on  ; "  and  on  we  went  down  through 
a  maze  of  crowded  streets,  to  the  Fenchurch  region,  —  to  the 
docks.  Then  we  climbed  the  swarthy  side  of  a  hulking  ship, 
and  came  on  deck.  The  ship  had  just  got  in  from  South 
America ;   been  four  weeks  on  the  voyage. 

"  This  ship,"  for  so  our  good  guide  said,  "  brought  in  her 
hold  just  five-and-thirty  thousand  carcasses  of  beef  and  mutton. 
Much  of  it  has  landed,  gone  to  the  company's  cellars;  much 
of  it  is  yet  aboard,  and  you  shall  see  and  handle  it. 


430  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

"But  first,"  he  said,  "come  down  into  the  ship  and  see  how 
this  is  done.  We  use  no  ice,  no  chemicals  ;  yet  bring  across  the 
ocean  all  this  great  mass  of  meat  frozen  as  hard  as  rock." 

We  went  down  into  the  ship.  Tlie  engines  that  brought  her 
had  gone  to  sleep,  after  the  long  voyage.  The  engines  that 
made  a  frigid  zone  down  in  the  torrid  hold  were  working  at 
their  best.  These  mighty  things,  one  at  each  end,  catch  the 
common  air  and  force  it  into  an  iron  cylinder,  many  diameters  in 
one.  You  know  that  multiplying  aerial  diameters  by  compres- 
sion induces  heat.  The  reverse  of  this  —  sudden  expansion,  — 
creates  great  cold.  So  these  giant  forces  first  contract  to  such 
extent  that  when  expansion  comes  the  very  snow  flies.  The 
condensing  room  was  very  warm,  but  lift  a  cover  on  a  box  where 
the  expansion  starts,  and  you  may  pull  out  snowballs ;  it  is  forty 
degrees  below  the  freezing-point  right  there  inside  an  atmosphere 
of  ninety-five  above. 

That  is  all  there  is  of  it.  The  beeves  and  sheep  are  killed  out 
in  Brazil.  They  have  condensers  there  ;  and  in  forty  minutes  after 
the  animal  is  dead,  it  is  frozen  stiff.  It  comes  into  the  ship  so 
frozen  ;  it  crosses  the  great  sea  still  kept  frozen  ;  they  land  it, 
sell  it,  frozen  hard ;  and,  mind  you,  British  butchers  sell  it  out, 
and  talk  of  tender,  well-fed  British  beef,  and  tell  their  customers 
of  fat  and  juicy  English  mutton,  w^hen  neither  beef  nor  sheep  is 
British  within  five  thousand  miles.  But  it  is  just  as  good  ;  better, 
perhaps,  and  my  lords  and  ladies  who  eat  this  sort  of  British 
meat  because  they  could  n't  relish  any  other  are  really  doing 
very  well.  This  way  of  bringing  much  Brazilian  beef  to  Britain 
is  one  of  many  schemes  that  fills  this  country  with  meat,  —  this 
and  others.  It  comes  in  cargoes  from  the  States,  fresh,  canned, 
and  on  the  hoof;  comes  here  from  Canada,  Australia,  and  Neth- 
erlands across  the  way ;  comes  here  in  quantities,  to  feed  the 
teeming  millions  who  would  famish  if  they  looked  to  home 
fields  and  herds  and  flocks  for  bread  and  meat ;  and  what  is 
true  of  bread  and  meat  is  true  of  garden  truck,  which  comes 
from  Holland,  comes  from  France,  and  keeps  the  people  fed. 

What  then?  The  English  farmer  can't  compete  in  bread  and 
meat.  The  land  that  once  was  -worth  three,  five,  six,  seven 
sterling  pounds  per  acre  every  year  is  now  worth  but  little.  It 
is  tilled,  of  course,  but  what  the  ground  may  yield  must  count 
in  value  like  the  yield  of  acres  of  the  West.     This  knocks  the 


OLD  ENGLAND.  43 1 

landlord  out.  Look  at  it  in  the  face ;  it  is  not  the  Land  League 
Irish  movement,  as  these  douglity  Britons  say,  that  makes  rentals 
cheap  in  Ireland,  but  the  ingenious  ways  of  bringing  foreign 
food  to  British  ports.  It  is  not  Pamell,  but  Providence.  It  is 
not  Conservative,  or  Liberal,  or  Land  League,  —  nothing  but 
plain  and  powerful  Supply  that  is  telling  on  the  price  and  power 
of  land. 

We  have  wandered  far  and  wide  in  these  itw  lines,  but  you 
can  take  the  texts  and  think  them  over,  and  do  your  own  preach- 
ing. London  is  the  greatest  city  of  the  world,  —  greatest  in  shops 
and  feed  and  fuel  stores  ;  greatest  in  mouths  to  feed  and  backs 
to  clothe  ;  greatest  in  thirst  and  strife  and  devious  ways  of  sin  ; 
greatest  in  charity  and  pulpit  work.  Great  marts  and  sins  and 
charities  are  ever  found  combined. 

Down  in  the  English  Channel,  a  dozen  hours  by  land  and 
sea  from  London,  you  find  the  Channel  Islands,  —  the  isles  of 
Jersey,  Guernsey,  Alderney,  and  Sark,  —  the  largest  Jersey, 
hardly  half  as  large  as  a  single  county,  noted  for  its  wonder- 
ful cattle,  climate,  and  its  thrift.  On  the  world's  map  it  is  a 
mere  speck,  so  small  that  you  would  never  find  it  unless  you 
knew  right  where  to  look  ;  yet  so  large  in  its  pecuhar  influences 
as  to  be  discussed  at  every  table  in  the  enlightened  world.  One 
comes  over  here  from  Weymouth  or  Southampton,  and  lands 
at  fair  St.  Hiliers,  the  only  port  in  Jersey,  a  place  of  thirty 
thousand,  —  one  half  the  island's  population.  It  is  a  well-built 
city,  built  up  of  brick  and  stone.  The  wharves  and  slips  are 
massive  granite  work,  the  streets  and  walks  are  granite,  the 
houses  largely  so,  —  a  neat  and  clean  substantial  little  place  with 
railroads  reaching  out  towards  the  east  and  west  a  half  dozen 
miles. 

It  is  a  very  little  place,  this  Jersey  garden  gem,  and  yet  it 
has  great  men,  great  industries,  and  great  speculations,  —  in 
fact,  is  much  like  many  other  towns.  In  dress  and  manners, 
business  ways  and  means,  it  is  very  much  like  other  seaports. 
They  have  fine  turnouts,  markets,  fashion  craze,  and  broken 
banks,  just  like  English  folks  or  Yankees.  The  people  are  a 
sort  of  French  and  English  grade ;  they  dress  and  talk  like 
French  or  English  folk,  and  have  other  symptoms  of  belong- 
ing to  both.     They  speak  some  French  and  some  English,  but 


432  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

the  common  talk —  the  patois  of  the  island  —  is  a  bastard 
Franco-Anglais  that  bafiles  both  French  and  English.  If  you 
turn  your  mind  to  understanding  them  in  French,  you  soon  get 
lost ;  if  you  try  to  follow  them  with  your  English  ears,  you  can't 
make  any  speed  ;  and  so  you  simply  let  the  Jersey  tongue  alone. 
But  when  it  comes  to  business,  they  are  like  all  other  peoples, 
only  more  so.  They  say  it  takes  the  Devil  to  beat  one  Jew,  two 
Jews  to  beat  a  farmer,  and  the  whole  crowd  to  beat  a  Jer- 
seyman.  This  is  probably  libellous,  and  I  should  not  have 
thought  of  it  had  it  not  been  taught  me  by  an  islander.  The 
hotels  are  grade  hotels,  neither  native  nor  thoroughbred. 
Plenty  of  them,  such  as  they  are,  and  rather  neat  and  tidy  sort 
of  inns,  —  neither  French  nor  English  nor  American,  but  a 
little  of  each.  You  get  a  room,  for  which  you  pay  a  price  ; 
the  meals  are  nothing.  Pay  for  your  room  and  bed  and  service, 
and  you  can  have  a  breakfast,  hot  or  cold  ;  a  luncheon,  cold  ;  a 
dinner  of  hot  soups  and  meats  and  pastry  things.  And  all  this 
shall  not  cost  you  more  than  six  or  eight  shiHings  a  day,  —  a  two 
dollars  a  day  arrangement.  In  fact,  I  got  a  real  table  d'hote  one 
day  of  soups  and  joints,  potatoes,  carrots,  parsnips,  cabbage, 
bread,  and  cheese,  —  a  real  feast,  —  for  five-and-twenty  cents  ! 
But  the  hotel  breakfasts  are  rather  sumptuous.  Tea  or  coffee, 
ham  and  eggs,  steaks,  chops,  cold  chicken,  roasts,  or  any  other 
kind  ;  and  such  a  dinner,  —  a  full  half  dozen  meats,  and  vegeta- 
bles and  sweets.  The  meats  come  forth  uncut.  The  guests  be- 
come the  carvers,  and  serve  each  other  as  their  wants  require.  At 
the  head  sits  the  President,  —  the  oldest  guest,  perhaps,  —  and 
he  will  carve  the  roast.  At  the  foot  sits  the  vice,  and  he  displays 
his  keen-edged  steel  about  the  mutton  joint.  The  roasted  goose 
or  ducks,  calfs-head,  and  other  meats,  are  placed  along  the  side  ; 
also  the  puddings,  tarts,  and  other  things ;  and  so  one  helps  the 
other  till  all  are  filled,  —  a  rather  social,  jolly  way.  Some  take 
a  pint  of  wine  or  beer,  some  prefer  a  water  drink  qualified 
with  spirits  ;  almost  every  one  takes  some  cheerful  fluid.  No 
noise,  no  ladies  at  these  meals,  and  nothing  boisterous  or 
impolite,  —  a  genial,  quiet  party.  If  one  must  leave  before  the 
meal  is  done  he  asks  permission  of  the  President,  and  moves 
quietly  out  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  business  then  in  hand.  We 
rather  like  these  orderly  and  helpful  ways.  They  speak  of 
decency  and  good-breeding. 


OLD  ENGLAND.  433 

But  we  came  not  over  to  Jersey  to  speak  entirely  of  people's 
ways,  but  more  to  look  up  Jerseys,  —  that  mild-eyed,  soft- 
skinned  sort  of  cow  that  makes  the  world  so  happy.  We  had 
seen  some  in  America  and  other  climes  ;  but  seeing  a  good  thing 
anywhere  you  rather  want  to  see  where  it  came  from.  If  you  see 
pretty  girls  and  boys  and  take  an  interest  in  their  ways,  you  want 
to  see  their  parents  and  their  homes  ;  and  every  pretty  picture 
that  you  see,  or  glorious  piece  of  music  that  you  hear,  you  would 
gladly  see  the  artist  and  the  author.  So,  then,  being  a  fancier 
of  Jersey  cattle  types,  and  having  a  week  to  spare,  we  came 
over  here  to  Jersey,  home  of  the  Jersey  cow.  Not  an  ambi- 
tious act,  perhaps,  but  full  of  real  interest ;  for  he  who  puts 
upon  your  table  two  pounds  of  golden  Jersey  butter  where  one 
pound  of  common  stuff  appeared  before,  deserves  a  costlier 
monument  than  he  who  wastes  his  wealth  to  go  to  Congress. 

You  may  never  have  thought,  or  cared  to  think,  what  consti- 
tutes pure  blood  in  cattle.  In  olden  times,  our  English  ances- 
tors abode  in  factions.  They  called  their  factions  counties. 
Separate  counties  had  their  own  laws  and  ways  of  doing  things. 
They  held  their  own  to  be  the  best,  and  cared  little  to  mix  with 
other  sorts.  They  lived  among  themselves  and  intermarried. 
Their  flocks  and  herds  were  rarely  intermixed  with  other  flocks 
and  herds,  but  were  made  as  good  as  they  could  make  them  by 
themselves.  And  so  you  come  to  hear  of  Devons,  Durhams, 
Herefords,  and  Ayrshires.  You  hear  of  Southdown  sheep  and 
Hampshire-downs  ;  and  so  you  hear  of  Jersey  cows  and  Guern- 
sey breeds,  and  of  Angus  and  Holstein  breeds  and  Belted  Swiss, 
and  this  and  that,  —  the  result  of  special  isolated  breeding. 
Some  breed  for  excellence  in  butter,  some  in  beef,  and  some  in 
cheese,  but  all  breed  for  a  purpose  ;  and  hence  through  enter- 
prise, and  through  jealousy,  too,  if  you  please,  have  come  to  us 
in  later  days  these  wonderful  cattle  products,  and  horses, 
trotting,  running,  and  street  and  roadster  kinds. 

You  will,  of  course,  object  to  what  I  want  to  say  ;  but  objec- 
tions are  very  cheap  and  often  worthless.  The  best  of  thinking 
men  and  women,  too,  believe  in  the  survival  of  the  fittest, 
especially  in  brutes.  They  talk  right  well  upon  this  point,  and 
really  believe  in  well-bred  horses,  cows,  sheep  ;  but  when  it 
comes  to  well-bred  men  and  women,  to  well-bred  babes  and 
boys  and  girls,  they  curtly  draw  the  curtain,  first  making  the 

28 


434  •^    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

remark  that  you  may  have  heard  before,  "  Matches  are  made  in 
heaven  ;  let  no  man  speak  or  interfere."  No  more  is  said.  The 
weak  and  puny  wed  the  robust  and  the  strong ;  those  who  are 
bh'ghted  with  a  taint  of  blood  espouse  the  pure  and  vigorous,  — 
to  bring  forth  sickly  ones  with  scrofula  and  cramped  vitality,  — 
because  of  love  at  first  or  later  sight ;  for  "  matches  are  made  in 
heaven."  Maybe  they  are  ;  but  if  indeed  they  be,  then  what  a 
weight  of  human  ills  and  human  pains  and  human  groans  and 
sighs  and  tears  has  Heaven  to  answer  for  !  One  must,  of  course, 
not  talk  too  far,  for  it  is  not  polite.  We  must  be  most  careful 
as  to  our  cattle-breeding,  — fittest  unto  fittest  with  our  herds,  fit- 
test in  physique  and  in  disposition ;  but  with  our  own  dear 
ones,  our  very  flesh  and  blood,  we  may  not  speak  or  write  or  act, 
for  is  not  all  this  regulated  up  there  beyond  the  vaulted  blue  ? 
Alas  that  men  should  think  and  speak  and  write  and  watch  so 
well  in  brute  affairs,  and  quite  ignore  all  laws  of  human  flesh 
and  blood  ! 

The  island  is  a  garden  sort  of  place.  Farms  everywhere, 
and  every  farm  a  gem.  The  average  farm  is  about  fifteen  acres. 
If  you  own  it  you  are  rich,  and  very  rich,  as  things  go  here.  If 
you  don't  own  it,  then  you  pay  five  or  six  or  seven  guineas  an 
acre  annual  rent  for  it  —  more  than  thirty  dollars  !  And  yet 
with  raising  potatoes  and  fruit  for  the  markets,  hay  and  grain  and 
roots  for  stock,  many  a  man  has  made  a  farmer's  fortune,  —  a  life- 
long competence,  with  funds  to  leave  behind.  You  cannot 
really  understand  it ;  but  crops  bring  in  much  profit  here,  and 
Jersey  cows  are  great  promoters  of  wealth.  That  farmers  have 
lived  here  and  prospered  under  such  a  weight  of  rent  is  patent. 
That  they  will  continue  to  do  so  admits  of  no  doubt.  Poor 
crops,  bad  luck,  and  now  and  then  a  broken  bank  will  occur, 
but  the  average  is  largely  in  favor  of  the  farmer. 


CLOSING   UP.  435 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

CLOSING   UP. 

The  Cost  of  Travel.  —  The  Hotels  on  the  Way.  —  Cost  of  Living. — 
Our  Friends  the  Officials,  Diplomatic  and  Consular.  —  Unpaid  Ser- 
vice.—  What  Travelling  Teaches.  —  Starting  for  Home. —  Good- 
Byes.  —  Adieus  and  Thanks.  —  Home  Again. 

SITTING  in  the  grill  room  in  Regent  Street  one  evening 
after  dinner,  reeling  some  Oriental  yarn  with  a  random 
acquaintance,  he  asked  the  question :  "  How  much  does  it 
cost  to  go  round  the  world?  " 

"  About  as  much  as  it  costs  to  buy  a  house." 
"But  that's  indefinite;  a  house  may  cost  more  or  less." 
"  So  will  a  journey  round  the  world.     You  can  go  first-class, 
second,  or  steerage  ;  you  can  go  around  and  make  no  stops, 
or  you  can  make  side  voyages  north  and  south  ;  you  can  push 
ahead  or  stop  to  do  the  ports  and  cities,  study  men  and  things ; 
you  can  spend  much  or  spend  little,  according  to  your  taste  and 
inclination  ;  can  make  it  very  cheap  indeed,  or  very  dear,  or 
moderate  in  price,  just  as  you  happen  to  be  made  up." 
"  Well,  a  moderate  price?  " 

"  That  again  depends.  I  met  a  man  out  there  in  Hong- 
Kong,  who  said  he  had  come  on  fi^om  New  York  in  less  than 
fifty  days  for  less  than  five  hundred  dollars.  He  said  he  could 
have  done  it  for  less,  but  he  was  making  his  expenses  moderate, 
and  would  reach  New  York  again,  and  the  whole  trip  would  n't 
cost  over  seven  hundred  dollars  ;  and  he  had  had  all  he  wanted, 
had  seen  all  he  expected  to  see,  was  taking  it  moderately. 
There  you  have  one  man's  moderate  price  for  getting  around, 
the  world. 

"  But  there  is  another  side  to  it.  A  San  Francisco  chap  in 
Constantinople  said  he  had  been  making  the  trip,  —  been  ten 
months  at  it  and  had  seen  much,  and  had  '  drawn  on  the 
"  old  man  "  for  only  twenty  thousand  dollars.'  He.  too,  was 
doing  the  round  trip  moderately  according  to  his  gauge." 


436  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

"  Suppose  you  strike  an  average  between  these  two  moderate 
sort  of  travellers,  how  would  that  work  ?  " 

"  It  would  n't  tell  the  truth,  as  I  understand  it.  All  depends 
on  habits  of  various  sorts.  You  may  make  a  twelve  months' 
tour  and  spend  litde  or  much,  and  count  yourself  quite  mod- 
erate. If  you  have  no  expensive  habits,  and  want  to  see  how 
cheaply  you  can  make  it,  you  will  not  spend  over  two  hundred 
dollars  a  month ;  and  though  your  habits  be  inexpensive,  and 
you  desire  to  see  everything  that  is  going,  right  and  left,  if 
in  making  the  twenty-four  thousand  miles  you  travel  forty  or 
fifty  thousand,  use  money  liberally  to  see  what  should  be  seen, 
you  will  spend  about  ten  dollars  a  day.  You  may  count  on 
that.  This  will  not  include  your  purchases,  which  may  amount 
to  nothing  or  thousands  of  dollars." 

"  Are  the  hotels  good  ?  " 

"  Good  and  bad  ;  mostly  bad.  There  are  a  few  good  hotels 
on  the  way  beyond  the  Slates.  The  Grand  Hotel  at  Yokohama 
is  excellent ;  the  Astor  at  Shanghai  is  only  fair  ;  the  Hong- 
Kong  Hotel  at  Hong-Kong  is  fine.  From  Hong-Kong  on  to 
Cairo,  a  good  long  stretch,  you  will  find  but  one  good  house,  — 
the  Grand  Oriental  at  Columbo,  the  only  first-class  hotel  in 
India.  India,  as  a  land,  has  all  that  is  good  to  eat,  but  it  has 
the  poorest  hotels  in  all  the  world,  —  dirty,  frowzy,  abominable 
in  all  that  should  be  clean  and  pure  and  decent.  Plenty  of 
servants,  —  every  guest  has  one  or  more,  aside  from  the  many 
hotel  servants,  —  but  nothing  clean  or  orderly.  The  cleanest 
and  best-victualled  hotels  in  India,  perhaps,  are  those  in  native 
towns,  entirely  kept  by  natives.  It  is  there  you  get  those  glo- 
rious curries.  You  get  curries  everywhere,  but  best  among  the 
natives. 

"  Do  you  eat  curry  ?  Of  course  not ;  for  you  cannot  get  it. 
You  eat  something  you  call  curry,  or  that  somebody  says  is 
curry,  but  it  is  no  more  like  Indian  curry  than  skim  milk  is  like 
cream.  I  will  not  tell  you  what  real  Indian  curry  is,  because  I 
don't  know;  nor  how  it  tastes,  for  you  can't  understand;  but 
it  is  the  king  of  dishes,  —  the  emperor. 

"  The  Cairo  hotels  are  fair,  —  good  as  any  hotel  can  be  without 
Indian  curry.  The  man  who  pays  four  dollars  a  day  at  Shep- 
heard's,  and  whose  tender  points  are  known  by  Luigi,  the  man- 
ager,  will   not   Hve   in   vain.     The   man   who   lives   at   Hotel 


CLOSING  UP.  437 

d'Angleterre,  in  Constantinople,  and  knows  the   manager  right 
well,  will  never  have  a  fault  to  find. 

"  If  you  come  up  the  Danube  you  will  find  good  hotels  at 
Bucharest,  a  sort  of  little  Paris ;  and  not  only  very  good  but 
very  dear  ;  the  dearest  hotels  in  all  the  round,  perhaps. 

"  It  is  a  long  way  from  San  Francisco  to  Vienna ;  many  miles 
as  we  zigzag  on,  and  worlds  of  water,  too ;  full  thirty  thousand 
miles  as  we  travel  up  and  down,  —  a  long  distance  in  which  to 
find  but  four  or  five  good  hotels  !  It  rather  discourages  one  ; 
but  remember,  it  is  not  for  good  hotels  that  real  travellers  go 
out  about  the  world.  They  like  one,  and  know  it  when  they  see 
it ;  but  such  are  like  oases  in  the  arid  sand,  and,  like  oases,  are 
not  soon  forgotten." 

"  How  is  it  here  in  Europe?  "  he  went  on  to  ask. 

"  European  plan.  When  you  have  left  Constantinople,  you 
leave  the  American  plan  behind.  So  much  per  day  is  the  lead- 
ing plan  all  round,  excepting  Europe.  The  price  you  pay 
includes  the  room  and  meals  and  lights  and  service,  except 
perhaps  in  India,  where  the  traveller  is  expected  to  furnish  his 
own  servants  and  something  in  way  of  bedding  ;  his  sheets  and 
pillows ;  comforters,  also,  if  he  needs  them.  Here  in  Europe 
the  hotels  are  almost  uniformly  good ;  you  pay  so  much  for  fur- 
nished room,  the  lights  and  service,  and  eat  in  the  hotel  or  at 
restaurants  outside. 

"  The  prices  of  rooms  are  moderate,  provided  you  pre- 
arrange ;  the  price  of  food  is  always  pretty  high.  Take  a 
London  hotel :  the  room  and  light  and  service  are  one  dollar 
twenty-five  ;  they  ask  one  dollar  eighty-five.  You  take  a  break- 
fast, —  only  a  single  cup  of  coffee  and  a  single  buttered  roll ; 
the  price  is  fifty  cents.  You  take  a  bit  of  cold  meat  or  an  egg 
with  your  coffee  and  roll,  and  the  price  is  seventy-five  cents. 
You  take  coffee,  rolls,  some  cold  meat,  and  an  egg  or  two ;  the 
price  is  then  a  dollar  ! 

"  For  lunch,  some  cold  roast  beef,  some  coffee,  bread  and 
cheese,  and  a  salad  call  for  one  dollar  ten  or  twenty-five ;  a 
dinner  from  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  to  a  dollar  and  a  half,  —  say 
four  dollars  fifty  cents  per  day.  Now  take  a  New  York  four  or 
five  dollar  house.  If  you  order  in  London  what  you  may  order 
at  your  New  York  hotel  it  would  cost  you  twenty  dollars  a 
day. 


438  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE   EARTH. 

"  But  you  need  not  pay  the  London  hotel  prices,  —  nor  hotel 
prices  anywhere.  You  have  your  room,  and  go  outside  to  eat. 
The  coffee  and  roll  you  can  get  outside  for  fifteen  cents  or  less ; 
the  lunch  for  fifty  ;  and  the  dinner  for  seventy-five,  —  about  two 
dollars  seventy-five  a  day  all  round,  unless  you  drink ;  then 
the  price  varies  according  to  the  kind  and  quality  of  drink. 
The  average  table  drinker  spends  about  as  much  for  his  drink 
as  for  his  food.  Then  the  tips  :  you  are  supposed  to  give  the 
waiter  about  two  cents  on  every  twenty-five  you  spend  ;  this 
being  about  the  only  wages  they  get.  But  one  who  knows  the 
ropes  may  live  here  in  London,  or  anywhere  in  Europe,  well 
enough  on  two  dollars  and  a  quarter  a  day,  or  on  one  dollar 
and  a  half  at  boarding-houses,  no  extras  counted  in. 

"  And  after  all  it  may  safely  be  said  that  the  European  plan 
is  the  best  in  some  respects,  —  the  best,  I  think,  in  point  of 
health  ;  and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal.  On  the  broad-gauged 
American  plan  people  eat  too  much  ;  eat  twice  as  much  as  they 
need,  as  a  rule.  If  you  eat  twice  as  much  of  this  and  that  as 
your  system  requires,  the  other  half  destroys  your  health.  The 
sins  of  drunkenness  are  very  great ;  the  sins  of  gluttony  are 
quite  as  great  or  greater.  The  man  who  drinks  to  excess  is  a 
drunkard  ;  he  who  eats  excessively  is  a  glutton.  Both  are  rush- 
ing toward  premature  graves.  We  scorn  the  one  and  emulate 
the  other. 

"  You  may  think  you  have  found  out  by  this  time  how  much 
it  will  cost  you  to  go  right  around  the  world.  But  you  have 
not,  and  you  never  will  until  you  make  the  trip." 

"  Well,  I  can't  entertain  you ;  I  am  not  able  to  entertain 
travellers." 

That  is  what  the  consul  said,  and  said  it  rather  curtly ;  as 
though  his  already  overtaxed  hospitality  had  been  invoked.  It 
is  not  a  genial  sort  of  text ;  but  it  opens  up  a  pretty  broad  field, 
and  will  do  quite  as  well  as  any  other. 

One  learns  —  he  ought  to  learn  —  to  love  his  country  more 
the  more  he  travels.  He  does,  in  many  things,  perhaps ;  but 
there  are  points  upon  which  we  gain  very  little,  if  anything,  by 
comparisons ;  and  one  of  these  is  found  in  our  diplomatic  and 
consular  service.  Our  ministers  abroad  and  those  who  fill  the 
consulates  are  usually  good  men,  —  men  of  experience,  some- 


CLOSING  UP.  439 

times  of  education  ;  men  who  would  in  most  instances,  or 
many  instances,  do  credit  to  the  arms  that  are  displayed  over 
their  front  doors,  those  doors  that  too  often  lead  to  stairs  — 
too  often  long  and  dark  and  dirty  stairs  —  that  lead  wearily  aloft 
to  low  and  dark  and  dirty  rooms,  —  the  sort  of  squalid  foreign 
nests  of  the  American  eagle. 

You  are  travellers,  —  respectable,  your  people  say.  Many  of 
you  go  armed  with  open  letters  signed  by  the  Secretary  of  State 
at  Washington,  who  in  printed  form,  in  unofficial  way,  tells  the 
service  So-and-so  that  Mr.  Tramper  So-and-so  is  going  here  and 
there  \  and  that  in  an  unofficial  way  the  service  may  shake  hands 
on  equal  terms  with  such  as  hold  these  lines,  and  in  an  un- 
official way  grant  unto  them  such  unofficial  interviews  and 
meats  and  drinks  as  may  be  eaten  or  drunken  in  an  unofficial 
way. 

This  unofficial  letter  is  so  particularly  mentioned  because  it 
may  hereafter  be  alluded  to.  Every  one  who  holds  this  pre- 
cious document  preserves  it  carefully,  for  very  rationally  he 
imagines  that  he  is  about  the  only  tramp  afloat  that  has  one ; 
about  the  only  girdler  of  the  globe  who  is  on  such  terms  with 
the  Secretary  of  State  as  to  gain  recognition  or  concession,  — 
preserves  it  carefully,  and  shows  it  to  fellow-travellers  confi- 
dentially, as  one  might  show  his  first  sweetheart's  photograph, 
pitying  such  as  are  less  roundly  blessed. 

If  it  is  on  your  first  trip,  you  will  show  this  letter  at  the  office 
desk  of  every  minister  or  consul  on  the  route,  until  experience 
teaches  you  some  lessons ;  and  after  you  have  learned  a  few  — 
some  more,  some  less  —  you  find  how  poor,  indeed,  your  piece 
of  writing  is,  and  how  big  a  fool  you  are  for  giving  it  breast- 
pocket room ;  how  stupid  the  Department  is  in  issuing  such  a 
thing. 

You  go  about  the  world  to  seek  your  pleasure.  What  you 
properly  have  to  do  with  ministers  or  consuls  is  very  little  in- 
deed ;  what  the  ministers  or  consuls  care  about  you  is  very 
little  indeed ;  and  how  they  wish  you  'd  keep  away  or  make 
your  visits  very  short,  you  will  surely  find  out  promptly  if  you 
have  observation.  Of  course  you  will  hand  them  the  letter  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  and  if  you  are  inexperienced  you  will 
expect  the  countenance  of  the  reader  to  gladden  up  as  he  de- 
vours its  contents ;  but  if  you  observe  him  closely  as  he  reads, 


440  A    CUDDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

you  will  see  that  he  does  n't  gladden  up  at  all ;  and  as  he  in 
courtesy  pretends  to  read  the  thing,  then  wearily  lays  it  down, 
the  thought  may  creep  through  your  thick  pate  that  it  is  already 
time  to  go.  For  the  man  who  really  has  fair  business  with  the 
diplomat  has  no  such  letter,  needs  none.  The  man  who  has 
one  is  a  griffin,  and  rather  out  of  place. 

Why  doesn't  the  countenance  of  the  official  gladden?  I 
need  not  tell  the  reader ;  he  has  guessed  already.  He  knows 
you  are  not  in  business  ways  ;  that  you  have  no  business  with 
him  ;  knows  that  you  are  a  peripatetic  fellow,  perhaps  a  sponge  ; 
and  if  you  can  read  his  mental  slate  aright  you  see  upon  it : 
"  Sponge,  dinner,  drinks,  —  seven  dollars  seventy-five.  I  really 
can't  afford  it."  That  is  why  his  countenance  does  n't  bloom  in 
smiles  and  gladness  ;  that  is  why  he  asks  you  not  out  to  drink 
or  dine  ;  but  rather,  when  you  came,  how  long  will  be  your  stay, 
and  when  you  think  you  '11  go  away,  —  those  freezing  platitudes 
so  chilling  to  ardent  hopes. 

This  brings  us  near  to  business,  and  to  the  text,  —  the  ques- 
tion of  inability.  Our  ministers  and  consuls,  especially  our 
consuls,  as  a  rule,  are  sons  of  poverty.  They  are  often  young 
men  who  don't  know  what  they  ought  to  do,  or  old  men  who 
have  broken  up  in  business  and  are  stowed  away  on  the  score 
of  political  service  or  personal  influence,  and  hope  to  tide  across 
some  years,  or  hope  to  strike  a  lead  that  will  pan  out  something 
good,  or  have  a  good  time  abroad,  whatever  that  may  mean. 
At  all  events,  they  are  poor,  and  stand  on  slender  salaries,  — 
enough,  perhaps,  to  pay  for  frugal  board  and  common  clothes, 
and  keep  the  wife  and  little  ones  at  home,  or  the  poor  sisters, 
or  their  parents.  Poor,  I  have  said,  and  can  but  ill  afford  to 
set  up  food  or  stand  expense  of  any  sort ;  for  some  have  been 
made  so  sore  by  over-drafts  drawn  on  them  by  these  letter- 
holding  tramps,  and  those,  perhaps,  who  hold  them  not,  that 
they  reply  too  curtly  in  the  quite  plain  language  of  the  text : 
''  I  am  not  able  to  entertain  travellers." 

The  answer  he  got  was  much  too  tart,  and  I  have  since  re- 
pented it.  For  he  told  a  grievous  truth  ;  and  he  was  like  the 
rest,  —  most  of  the  rest  of  them,  —  unable  to  entertain  ;  really 
unable  to  see  an  old-time  friend,  much  less  a  perfect  stranger, 
and  make  him  feel  at  home.  And  this  is  why  experienced  trav- 
ellers keep  entirely  away  from  ministers  and  consuls  unless  there 


CLOSING   UP.  441 

are  special  reasons  for  a  visit.  Our  Government  is  very  frugal 
in  some  things,  quite  lavish  in  others.  Most  other  nations  own 
decent  houses  in  all  important  cities,  have  legation  and  con- 
sular outfits  of  their  own,  and  pay  their  servants  liberal  salaries 
besides,  —  not  salaries  alone,  but  stated  sums  for  entertainment, 
so  that  people  in  distant  lands,  those  who  by  their  rank  or 
their  positions  should  be  entertained,  may  be  without  taking 
the  bread  from  children's  mouths. 

Some  years  ago  some  magnates  of  our  land  made  trips 
abroad,  and  went  right  round  the  world.  You  might  think  it 
strange  that  through  the  force  of  the  department  letters  for- 
warded or  handed  to  our  diplomatic  and  consular  corps,  full 
many  a  music,  many  a  carriage,  bill  was  paid  by  our  officials 
abroad  with  money  taken  not  from  any  entertainment  fund,  but 
from  their  own  pockets,  poorly  lined.  This  is  not  the  part  for  a 
great  country,  a  rich  nation  like  ours,  to  act.  If  it  hints  to 
consuls  or  suggests  to  them  that  bearers  of  departmental  letters 
might  properly  be  entertained,  it  should  also  add,  at  government 
expense,  and  furnish  the  money,  under  proper  restrictions. 

Our  foreign  service  is  not  only  poor  and  compelled  to  act 
stingily,  but,  as  a  rule,  it  is  not  well  housed.  About  the  best 
legation  outfit  in  the  world  furnished  by  Uncle  Sam  is  that  at 
Tokio,  Japan  ;  and  about  the  best  consular  establishment  is  at 
Yokohama.  These  are  detached,  spacious,  airy,  and  whole- 
some. Why  this  should  be  true  of  almost  the  least  important 
of  all  the  foreign  empires,  it  is  hard  to  tell.  In  the  great 
Chinese  capital  our  minister  is  most  poorly  domiciled,  and  so 
right  on  around  the  world  ;  the  exceptions  are  such  as  belong 
to  the  class  of  ministers  and  consuls  who  are  able  to  provide 
for  themselves.  Of  course,  we  are  a  republic,  and  so  have  such 
simple  habits  !  But  being  a  republic  and  having  simple  ways, 
we  house  our  consressmen  most  rovallv  ;  our  cabinet  and  under 
officers  at  Washington  transact  affairs  in  rather  sumptuous 
rooms, —  comfortable,  at  least,  in  all  respects  ;  but  why  do  better 
by  officials  at  home  than  those  afar?  If  for  other  people's  eyes 
we  build  grand  capitols  and  grand  department  piles  at  home, 
why  not  impress  a  little  of  our  greatness  on  important  points 
abroad  ? 

At  Bombay  we  asked  at  the  hotel  to  be  directed  to  the  Ameri- 
can consulate.     No  one  knew  where  it  was.     At  the  Bank  the 


442  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

question  was  repeated.  It  was  somewhere  off  from  Elphinstone 
Circus,  but  they  did  n't  know  exactly  where  ;  we  had  better 
inquire  there.  We  did,  and  a  policeman  told  us  just  where  to 
go,  and  we  went.  It  was  a  fine  establishment,  but  it  was  n't 
American  at  all,  only  Spanish.  But  we  kept  on  asking  and  kept 
on  going,  till  finally  we  took  a  cab,  and  told  the  cabby  what  we 
wanted ;  and  he  inquired  from  place  to  place,  and  finally  found 
the  door  and  the  eagle  and  shield  above  it,  also  the  flights  of 
tiresome,  dirty  stairs ;  and  way  up  topside,  four  floors  up,  we 
found  the  stuffy  chamber  where  the  consul  lived.  This  in  one 
of  the  first  commercial  cities  of  the  world  ! 

VVe  must  not  put  on  airs,  nor  must  we  humiliate  ourselves, 
because  we  are  a  republic.  We  advertise  our  plain  and  simple 
ways  in  this  fair  land,  but  we  need  n't  go  officially  ragged  on 
that  account  or  live  in  mean  apartments,  and  put  our  foreign 
representatives  to  shame.  We  have  a  lot  of  national  pride  and 
talk  about  our  flag  and  cotton  crops  and  corn,  but  not  about 
appearances  in  foreign  lands ;  for  at  consular  and  diplomatic 
doors  you  cannot  feel  you  are  welcome  unless  you  have  some 
urgent  business  to  transact.  Otherwise,  the  intelligent  traveller, 
despite  the  unofficial  letter,  keeps  himself  away ;  or,  if  he  goes, 
he  invites  the  official  out  to  dine  with  him  on  the  express  under- 
standing that  no  counter-invitation  will  be  accepted,  —  on 
account  of  shortness  of  your  stay.  This,  like  all  general  rules, 
has  one  or  two  exceptions  ;  but  the  exception  does  not  count  so 
far  as  compensation  goes.  Our  service  abroad  gets  scarcely  a 
living  salary.  The  ministers,  with  twelve  thousand  dollar  sala- 
ries, lose  money  by  their  office  ;  our  consuls,  with  twelve  hundred 
to  twenty-five  hundred  dollars'  compensation,  oftener  come  back 
with  more  debts  than  credits. 

They  might  do  better?  Yes.  They  might  sit  down  in  their 
dingy  offices,  refuse  all  invitations,  and  give  out  none ;  live  in 
the  very  plainest  way,  ignore  all  local  social  customs,  —  live  the 
life  of  misers,  hermits,  in  the  midst  of  life  and  plenty,  and  save 
up  something  ;  otherwise  their  savings  will  be  losses.  Living  in 
such  a  way  quite  fails  to  impress  the  people  of  foreign  lands 
with  our  boasted  or  our  real  greatness.  To  require  our  foreign 
agents  to  live  thus  in  order  that  they  may  come  out  profitably 
is  altogether  wrong.  But  they  must  live  this  way  if  they  would 
surely  thrive  upon  their  wages.     What  is  to  be  done  ?     W1iy, 


CLOSING  UP.  443 

do  as  other  respectable  nations  do,  —  make  the  service  re- 
spectable by  paying  good  salaries  and  insisting  upon  good  per- 
formance and  personal  decency  in  office. 

And  this  opens  up  a  new  line  of  talk.  What  sort  of  men 
have  we  abroad?  All  sorts.  Possibly  as  good  as  officials  at 
home,  but  not  good  enough.  Great  distance  from  home  and 
too  much  inattention  on  the  part  of  the  Government  has  an 
unsafe  tendency.  Of  course  the  bondsmen  of  the  officials  are 
counted  good  for  financial  shortages,  but  they  are  not  respon- 
sible for  the  moral  shortages,  of  which  one  hears  too  much  in 
foreign  lands.  It  is  not  much  use  to  preach  at  this  long  range, 
especially  as  there  are  others  in  plenty  to  do  it ;  but  gaming  and 
evil  living  among  our  representatives  abroad  have  had  some  bad 
effects,  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  know  that  some  of  the  weeds 
have  been  cast  out.  Good  service,  good  pay,  and  good  lives 
should  be  found  in  all  these  offices. 

I  have  said  the  pay  is  not  large,  and  yet  these  offices  can  all 
be  filled  at  one  half  the  pay  they  now  command,  but  it  would 
be  at  a  still  further  loss.  The  average  is  much  too  low  as  it  is, 
and  the  intelligent  traveller  is  too  often  sorry  for  his  country 
that  things  are  so  much  mixed  up  abroad ;  and  yet  they  say  it  is 
improving,  and  such  we  believe  to  be  the  case. 

And  another  thing.  So  far  as  trade  and  shipping  goes  our 
chances  in  the  Orient  are  getting  less  and  less,  and  less  and 
less  the  need  of  consular  service  all  along  the  line.  By  our 
style  of  protecting  iron  interests,  and  by  our  admiralty  customs, 
the  States  are  yearly  losing  ground,  our  shipping  growing  less 
and  less ;  and  less  and  less  it  will  grow  until  it  has  vanished 
quite,  and  the  only  iron  ships  that  bear  our  flag  out  there  will  be 
the  occasional  war  vessel.  It  is  a  great  wrong,  and  we  natu- 
rally cry  out.  How  long,  O  Lord,  how  long  shall  the  interests  of 
a  io-w'  stand  more  than  equal  with  the  interests  of  the  masses, 
when  to  protect  the  few  the  sea  shall  be  cleared  of  our  too  few 
sailors  and  our  too  few  ships,  and  maritime  profits  shall  all  go 
into  the  pocket  of  other  nations  ?  When  shall  the  great  United 
States  of  America  be  old  enough  and  big  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  stand  upon  her  feet  and  safely  walk  alone  ? 

Some  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Americans  go  abroad  every 
year,  and  in  so  doing  they  pay  the  ships,  say  five-and-twenty 
millions    of  dollars   annually.      Whose    ships?     Those   of  the 


444  ^    GIRDLE  ROUND   THE  EARTH. 

English,  French,  German,  Dutch,  and  Italian  lines.  Why  not 
pay  this  money  to  our  own?  We  have  none.  All  that  we  had 
are  driven  from  the  seas  by  our  own  legislation ;  and  the  vast 
sums  paid  annually  as  passage-money,  and  the  vaster  sums  paid 
out  on  freights,  go  into  foreign  pockets.  Even  what  we  here 
produce — our  cotton,  corn,  meats,  and  other  things  exported  — 
go  out  in  foreign  ships.  All  around  we  may  safely  say  we  of 
the  United  States  build  up  and  maintain  this  European  mer- 
chant marine  to  the  extent  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of 
dollars  a  year,  the  most  of  which  should  go  into  the  pockets 
of  American  shipmasters. 

But  what  has  this  to  do  with  our  consular  service  abroad  ? 

A  great  deal.  If  we  were  doing  our  own  shipping  as  we  used 
to,  encouraging  and  building  up  instead  of  discouraging  and 
pulling  down  our  own  merchant  marine  all  over  the  world,  then 
would  there  be  a  demand  for  a  more  vigorous  consular  service 
and  more  imposing  and  attractive  outfits  in  that  direction,  — 
the  same  perhaps  as  other  nations  have ;  but  inasmuch  as  our 
consular  duties  are  very  light,  the  output  must  be  both  slim  and 
unattractive. 

The  service  is  underpaid  and  poorly  housed ;  it  is  bored  too 
much  and  boarded  on  too  much  by  travellers  ;  and  we  cannot 
find  it  in  our  heart  to  blame  the  much  over-taxed  service  man 
for  what  he  said  in  the  text  first  quoted.  He  thought  perhaps 
we  had  hinted  at  something,  so  he  but  gave  plain  words  to  the 
thought  that  occupies  the  minds  of  nearly  every  consul  along 
the  great  highway  of  travel :  "I  am  not  able  to  entertain 
travellers." 

Lojido/i,  Sept.  I,  1886. — ^  The  trip  is  almost  done.  We 
close  our  books,  pack  up  our  things,  lock  up  and  strap  our 
trunks ;  our  ship  will  sail  to-morrow ;  we  shall  be  home  again 
in  ten  or  a  dozen  days.  We  have  been  counting  months  that 
lay  between  ourselves  and  home,  and  watched  their  growing 
less  and  less ;  then  we  counted  weeks,  —  only  a  few  short 
weeks  that  kept  us  back  from  home  and  those  on  earth  most 
dear ;  and  now  the  weeks  are  gone,  and  we  count  only  days,  — 
a  few  more  days  and  we  shall  be  across  the  sea,  across  the  sea 
and  land,  and  home  again. 

Now  we  may  think  of  it.     Our  real  work  is  done,  and  home 


CLOSING  UP.  445 

almost  in  sight ;  now  we  may  think  of  it  and  speak  of  it !  You 
who  have  travelled  far  will  understand  it  well ;  you  who  have 
had  great  tasks  to  do  will  understand  it  well.  Learn  to  labor 
and  to  wait.  You  are  ten  thousand  miles  from  home,  and 
every  thousand  miles  is  a  month  of  absence  ;  and  home  is  quite 
as  dear  to  you  ten  thousand  miles  away  as  one ;  but  it  is 
better  that  you  think  not  too  much  of  home,  lest  it  create  a 
hurry  in  your  mind,  unsettle  you,  and  make  you  slight  your 
work.  It  is  hard  to  give  your  home  a  second  place ;  but  it  is 
far  away,  and  you  can  neither  help  nor  hindrance  give  ;  't  were 
better  far  to  think  of  things  in  hand,  do  well  your  present  work, 
and  wait.  The  ship  in  time  will  bring  you  home.  So,  too,  in 
life's  career,  mind  not  so  much  the  promised  joys  to  come, 
fruition  of  your  faith,  but  mind  you  well  each  present  day, 
the  toil  the  present  hour  asks,  the  proper  duty  of  each  present 
moment's  time  ;  and  all  that  lies  beyond  may  safely  wait  the 
closing  of  life's  tour. 

In  way  of  retrospect :  What  does  one  learn  in  going  around 
the  world?  He  learns  to  unlearn.  Much  of  our  best  legisla- 
tion consists  in  undoing  the  wrongs  of  previous  legislatures. 
Much  of  your  time  or  mine  is  spent  undoing  and  unlearning 
things  that  we  have  done  or  learned  improperly.  You  may  not 
relish  these  verdicts  that  you  are  constrained  to  enter  up  against 
yourself,  but  in  way  of  common  honesty  you  have  to  do  it.  So, 
if  you  would  travel  well  and  see  things  as  they  are,  or  as  you 
really  think  you  find  them,  you  must  go  prepared  to  yield  as 
well  as  gain ;  for  to  give  up  what  is  wrong  is  to  make  mental 
room  for  what  is  good  and  true,  —  true,  anyhow. 

You  go  to  learn  that  the  world  is  very  large  ;  that  men  in 
many  and  in  most  of  things  are  very  much  alike  ;  that  like  pur- 
suits and  thoughts  are  rife  with  mortals  everywhere ;  that  men 
who  go  in  ships  and  those  upon  the  land,  that  men  who  trade  in 
stores  and  they  who  work  in  shops,  that  they  who  minister  to 
wants  of  earth  and  hopes  that  reach  beyond  the  tomb  are  very 
much  alike,  —  most  stardingly  alike  ;  that  men  are  selfish  after 
all ;  that  all  have  goodness  after  all ;  that  no  one,  of  all  that  is 
bad  or  good,  has  any  sure  monopoly.  The  sun  that  shines  on 
you  at  home  comes  forth  to  shine  on  all ;  the  silver  moon  that 
you  adore  has  just  as  silvery  beams  for  us  and  all  who  live  in 
foreign  lands.     The  sun  and  moon  and  stars  and  rain  are  in 


446  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

God's  hands,  and  not  in  yours,  my  Christian  or  my  heathen 
friend,  and  so  tliey  bless  us  all.  We  pray  for  blessings  ;  so  do 
all,  —  some  in  this  way,  some  in  that ;  your  wants  would  choke 
another's  wants ;  what  you  ask  God  to  send  you,  others  would 
avert ;  but  God  is  over  all,  sees  over  all,  and  whether  you  ask 
or  hold  your  peace,  the  blessing  comes  or  stays,  regardless  of 
your  hope  or  thought.  Do  but  your  duty,  —  not  what  another 
thinks  it  is,  but  as  your  conscience  speaks  to  you,  —  the  ship 
will  bring  you  home. 

You  don't  read  history  for  the.  reading,  but  to  grasp  results ; 
you  do  not  travel  far  and  wide  for  merely  what  you  see,  but  what 
should  come  of  it.  You  know  full  well  before  you  start  that  in 
the  tropic  zone  no  winter  comes  ;  that  men  in  colder  zones  are 
mostly  white,  in  hotter,  mostly  dark  ;  that  products  of  the  tropic 
lands  are  not  those  of  our  own ;  but  when  you  come  to  sit  on 
Ceylon  shores  or  Javan  hills  you  wonder  at  the  litde  difference 
after  all ;  for  men  are  all  at  work  for  gain,  and  he  who  has  money 
can  have  most  things  he  wants,  and  such  as  have  not  can't. 
You  learn  in  travelling  round  the  world  that  gold  is  gold  the 
whole  world  round,  that  silver  lies  in  most  men's  thoughts,  and 
all  men  work  for  pay,  —  for  hearth  and  home  and  things  to  wear 
and  feed  upon.  What  else  are  we  doing  here?  If  working  for 
pay,  hearth,  and  home  is  civilization,  then  all  the  world  is  civi- 
lized. The  pay  may  vary,  so  may  homes,  but  that  is  nothing 
here  nor  there. 

You  go  about  the  world  to  learn  that  men  respect  you  for 
your  guns.  Some  say  the  merchant  leads  the  way  and  opens  up 
all  foreign  lands.  The  missionary  says  that  it  is  he  who  makes 
the  crooked  straight,  rough  places  smooth,  and  opens  up  the 
way  of  light  and  power  and  trade,  and  holds  the  fort ;  but 
you  go  about  to  learn  that  both  are  wrong  :  that  after  all  it  is 
not  the  calico  or  rum  that  gives  you  homes  in  foreign  lands, 
nor  yet  the  Bible  or  the  priest,  nor  Christian  schools  or  hospi- 
tals that  keep  them  there,  but  those  deep-throated,  murderous 
guns  that  float  about  the  world,  and  breathe  out  threatening. 
Was  it  different  in  old  Pharaonic  times,  or  yet  in  days  of  Rome  ? 
We  boast  of  our  ways  of  trade  and  brotherly  love  and  all  of 
that ;  but  take  away  the  Christian's  shotted  guns  from  China, 
Japan,  India,  Sultan's  realms,  and  the  merchant  and  the  mission 
man  would  very  shortly  seek  his  home  or  find  his  grave.    You  say 


CLOSING  UP.  447 

it  is  not  so,  yet  dare  not  make  the  test.  Remove  menacing 
guns  from  German  forts  to-day,  —  from  any  nation's  battle- 
ments,—  and  count  upon  your  fingers  the  years  its  rule  would 
last.  We  say  we  love  our  fellow-men,  and  accord  to  every  man 
his  own.  We  don't.  We  love  their  lands  and  money,  and  but 
for  fear  of  their  shot  and  shell  would  surely  take  them  in. 

Your  travel  gives  you  greater  love  of  home.  Not  your  travel 
alone,  but  that  of  other  men.  The  American,  the  Englishman, 
German,  Turk,  Chinee,  or  Arab  learns  by  travel  the  more  to 
love  his  own.  This  may  hurt  your  pride,  but  it  is  true.  You 
never  think  as  much  or  fondly  of  your  native  home  and  land  as 
when  you  are  absent  from  it ;  but  while  you  think  this  thought, 
remember  that  the  Arab,  India  man,  or  Malay  thinks  the  same ; 
so  you  are  in  this  respect  his  equal  only.  We  are  thankful  for 
great  privileges  that  we  at  home  enjoy,  and  would  not  be  any- 
body else  for  all  that  the  world  could  give ;  but  that  thought 
spans  the  world,  lives  in  the  hearts  of  every  people,  —  be  it 
ever  so  humble,  be  it  ever  so  heathen,  there  is  no  place  like 
home.  "  Thank  God  for  Home  "  is  in  the  hearts  of  all  the  sons 
of  men,  and  all  the  brute  creation. 

You  hunt  around  the  world  to  learn  that  there  are  homes 
for  all,  food  for  all,  happiness  for  all,  —  the  whole  world  round 
for  men  and  brutes  ;  for  Heaven  is  over  all,  —  no  patents  granted 
on  these  things.  We  claim  to  know  so  many  things  that  others 
don't,  and  yet  you  learn  that  most  of  all  we  know  was  copied 
from  these  men  you  pity  because  they  are  not  of  us.  Come, 
now,  look  about  your  homes  and  schools  and  shops  and  stores. 
What  have  you  upon  your  shelves,  or  on  your  floors,  or  on 
your  backs,  that  other  people  have  not  had  and  have  in  like  or 
modified  degree,  all  around  the  world  ?  You  travel  round  the 
world  to  lose  your  vanity,  for  you  find  yourself  a  copyist,  — 
copyist  in  your  faiths,  your  books,  your  customs,  goods,  and 
wares,  professions  and  your  practices.  At  home  we  wonder  why 
all  the  world  does  not  copy  after  us ;  when  the  fact  is  we  have 
been  copying  things,  the  best  and  worst,  from  all  the  world. 

You  go  abroad  to  learn  some  other  things,  —  that  what  you  eat 
and  drink  is  not  just  what  it  seems.  You  expect  to  find  the 
best  of  teas  in  China ;  but  you  don't.  At  home  you  think  that 
your  Old  Java  coffee  comes  from  Java,  and  Mocha  coffee  from 
Arabia ;  but  it  does  not.    You  buy  fine  India  shawls  in  India,  to 


448  A    GIRDLE  ROUND    THE  EARTH. 

be  sure  ;  but  they  were  largely  made  in  Europe.    You  buy  old 

coins  and  curious  ancient  things,   so  queer,  unique ;  but  the 

shops  are  mostly  in  Birmingham.     You  buy  soft  fabrics  from 

the  Indian  looms  and  curious  Oriental  stuffs  ;  but  the  looms  that 

wove  many  of  them  are  not  always  to  be  found  in  Asia.     You 

wonder  at  many  curious  things  you  find  in  Eastern  shops,  and 

praise  the  skill  of  Indian  or  Chinese  manufacturers,  and  don't 

feel  quite  right  on  learning  that  the  same  are  fair  imitations, 

made  across  the  sea. 

And  so  one  travels  to  become  sceptical.    A  sceptic  is  one  who 

doesn't  believe  just  what  you  or  your  society  believes.     He  is 

usually  thoughtful  and  inquiring,  and  ten  to  one  his  research  will 

breed  conclusions  that  you  will  not  admit,  because  you  were 

taught  in  a  different  way,  and  you  must  needs  be  right.     If  you 

believe  that 

"  the  spicy  breezes 
Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle," 

it  is  very  sceptical,  indeed,  to  ascertain  that  they  do  not ;  or,  if 

you  believe  that 

"  every  prospect  pleases, 
And  only  man  is  vile," 

of  course  it  must  be  so,  though  the  people  are  not  more  "  vile  " 
than  those  of  Chicago  or  New  York. 

But  after  all  that  one  says  or  thinks  of  the  bright  days  and 
curious  scenes  and  faithful  studies  in  these  foreign  lands,  the 
traveller  is  glad  to  pack  his  trunk  even  for  the  hundredth  time 
and  leave  them  all  behind  for  home.  The  trip  has  given  him 
many  a  charming  scene  and  many  a  thrilling  thought ;  his  eyes 
have  had  long  feasts,  his  ears  have  known  strange  sounds,  his 
taste  new  novelties  ;  and  yet  the  best  day  and  sight  and  scene  of 
all  is  the  day  on  which  he  shuts  his  books,  locks  up  at  last  his 
trunks,  and  boards  the  ship  that  takes  him  home.  The  days 
and  months  have  all  been  good  and  free  from  accident  and 
pain,  but  the  days  now  just  ahead  are  so  much  better ;  the  ship 
that  takes  us  back  to  home  and  friends,  the  best  of  ships  that 
sail.  So  good-by,  England,  Europe,  Asia,  —  all  that 's  left  be- 
hind ;  the  tramp  is  over,  we  are  going  home. 

At  Home  !  Four  hundred  days  away.  A  hundred  days  at 
sea,  and  many  a  day  by  cart  and  car,  —  full  forty  thousand  miles. 


CLOSING    UP.  449 

Yet  not  a  moment's  illness,  no  loss  of  sleep  or  rest,  no 
scratch  or  slightest  accident,  —  a  happy  thirteen  months ;  no 
death  or  illness  among  our  kith  or  kin ;  what  could  be 
better? 

At  home  again  !  For  kind  words  sent  us  on  the  way,  for 
kind  words  said  of  lines  sent  home  for  print,  for  good  com- 
panionship the  whole  way  round,  —  our  hand  and  heartfelt 
thanks. 


29 


f^V 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Travel 

G440 

.R5 


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